


Before I Die (Let Me See Color)

by AngelWalkingTheStars



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: 19th Century, Allen Walker Needs a Hug, And Allen's, And Kanda's, Angst, Colors, Cross Marian's A+ Parenting, Death, Emotions, Empath, Empathy, He's actually doing okay, Hurt Allen Walker, Insanity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated for Cross' mouth, Synesthesia, Wordcount: Over 20.000, but like, he's still an asshole though, like seriously, there's a lot of cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-01-29 21:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12639738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWalkingTheStars/pseuds/AngelWalkingTheStars
Summary: “If it helps at all,” Allen grinned, unrepentant. “We're definitely running out of things for me to be able to identify.”Cross groaned louder, falling back on the bed in what appeared to be complete despair, judging by the heavy blue hanging around the man's aura.Again, he would feel a little bad, but a couple existential crises could probably do his Master some good.In the very least, it did do Allen good.--In which Allen has Synesthesia, combining his sight with emotions and, to an extent, touch. He can also see Innocence... yeah, he doesn't know either.(Updates will be postponed for at least 2 weeks due to my exams. I'm really sorry if anyone is upset, but I really want to be able to put proper thought into the oncoming events in this fanfic which can't happen unless I focus both my time and proper effort into this. Thank you for understanding, guys, I'll see you soon. 4/6)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liketolaugh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Synchronization](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5172830) by [liketolaugh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh). 



> So hi! My name is Lana, just so you know. Nice to meet you, and thank you for reading my fanfic!
> 
> Also, just a little info going into this:  
> This story is going to have a bit of a combination of Synesthesia and Empathy, I suppose. I'm sure you'll get it as you go along, but if you want more info just leave a comment, and I'll answer it to the best of my abilities.
> 
> This work was inspired a lot by many of liketolaugh's works. I've been reading them for a while, and Synchronization in particular really inspired this, so thank you to them! They're an amazing author, and you should definitely go read some of their works!
> 
> If you have any requests for future scenes, please let me know in the comments as well. Thank you!
> 
> Now, onto the story!

It's dark.

  
And cold, of course. The two seem to go hand in hand, after all.

  
The revolting stench of rotting garbage and the dusting of dirt and other grime in the alleyway sting his nose and bare skin _(an ugly, burning yellow)_. He's numb _(dull grey)_ , and it's snowing _(too many flecks of pale, pale blue)_ , but mostly.. it's dark.

  
And then it's not…

  
\---

  
The first time he sees it, he doesn't understand.

  
It's a pure white edged with turquoise and a smattering of brown and yellow. The colors scream to him _(safe hope warmth healing)_ , and he screams back, but his voice doesn't work, and the grey is overwhelming, and then there's black and a horrid yellow-green, but it's all mixing together, and he can't breathe. 

Just before he passes out, the beautiful white and turquoise flood his vision, and he thinks if he dies seeing this, he'll die happy.

-

  
He doesn't die.

  
-

  
Sometimes he still regrets that.

  
\---

  
After a while, he figures out the meanings behind the colors. They help.

  
He can avoid Cosimov on the bad days where his usual dark green and malicious purple are tinted black at the edges.

  
He can get aid from people whose colors aren't completely focused because of their work.

  
He discovers the simple, unerring pink of a dog, who licks his red, misshapen hand as if he weren't a monster or a demon but a person. The pink is a sharp contrast to the dull, dark colors of the circus, and he never misses a chance to see the dog from then on.

  
-

  
He watches... that day.

  
A dark, black-purple-green aura, snuffing out the pink aura as it slowly grows duller and duller until finally, it's faded completely into black.

  
The dog is dead, and Cosimov walks away with black trailing behind him.

  
-

  
Red, stinging with dingy yellow and a faded red, drowns in the deep blues, holds his immobile left arm close because no matter how it has wronged him, it has always been turquoise and white. It's beautiful even with the deepest blues of his soul shattering in this too dark world.

  
-

  
He still wants that turquoise-white to be the last color he sees before he dies.

  
-

  
He wonders if a coward gets to see such beautiful things before death.

  
\---

  
“He's dead..” The dog's pink aura has long since faded. “He's covered in bruises.”

  
The bruises match the color of Cosimov's dark aura.

  
Red glances over at the clown beside him, scowling. He really fucking hates clowns. Their colors are always contrasting; dark and gloomy against the brightness of their costumes. Yet this clown..

  
“Cosimov probably did it. 'Cause the audience likes you more than him,” Red mentions matter of factly. He can't seem to stop talking. “He hates when people are better’n him. He's got no talent, except when it comes to stuff like this.”

  
That's when the clown finally acknowledges him but only with words. His eyes remain on the dog's makeshift grave.

  
“He was an old dog,” he murmurs, orange-yellow-blue aura never changing. Strange. “He wouldn't have lived much longer anyway. It's alright.”

  
“Hmm..” Red hums thoughtfully, glancing up at the clown, looking for anything to imply what he might do next. There's nothing red about him. “You're not gonna get revenge?”

  
The clown claps his hands together in prayer. It looks fucking ridiculous in that stupid clown costume.

  
“If I do that, I'll get kicked out of here and won't get paid. I'm a newcomer, after all. After Christmas tomorrow, I'll move on to somewhere new.”

  
Ugh. This guy is a fucking lunatic.

Regardless, it makes sense. A logical lunatic, goddamnit. “I see.”

  
“Hmm?” The clown hums thoughtfully. Like an idiot. “Who are you anyway?”

  
Red ignores the irrational hurt he feels at going unrecognized and answers, “I do odd jobs around here… I've brought you dinner before.”

  
“I have a bad memory for faces,” the idiot replies, and Red scowls further. “Oh my! You're covered in bruises too, aren't you?”

  
A sudden, wet, murky brown-green sensation on his skin causes him to jump away from the clown, screeching, “Gross! Get your spit off me, dummy!”

  
“It's disinfectant,” the clown murmurs, disheartened. His aura doesn't even dull.

  
“Did Cosimov beat you up?”

  
“Shut up!”

  
“Don't you have any friends?”

  
“SHUT UP!”

  
_Man, this idiot is getting on his nerves!_

  
He spits out, voice ringing with the dim red in his voice, “When I grow up… I'm getting out of here as soon as I'm strong enough, so I don't need friends.”

  
To his left, the clown slides up close to him so suddenly that he almost flinches back, but all the clown does is make a ridiculous face. It's stupid.

  
“What're you doing?” He scowls, hoping the clown is intimidated by his red and refuses to look at the dummy.

  
“You didn't think it was funny?”

  
“Sorry,” not really. “But I don't like clowns and stuff. In fact, I hate 'em.”

  
“My, my.” The clown says hotly, and still his colors don't change. “Well, I hate crowds and children who don't laugh.”

  
“Hmph.” Red scoffs. As if he'd care what this clown thinks. And yet.

  
“Aren't… you gonna cry? He lived with you for a long time, didn't he? Aren't you sad?”

  
“So sad I could die!” The clown acts as if he were to hang himself, but he wouldn't because his aura hasn't changed once since Red started talking to him. Orange-yellow-blue.

  
“Quit it!”

  
Then…

  
“But I can't cry… Maybe my tears are dried up… they just won't come.”

  
Red, deep blue overtaking the simmering red, turns away, mumbling to himself, “What's up with that?”

  
Weighing his options, Red decides to ask, “What… was his name?” He continues without really meaning to, driven by the drowning heaviness of the blue. “He licked my hand yesterday. His tongue was warm.”

  
A bright, golden yellow that held back the grey of most days. The reminder sends a wave a deep blue through him, and his voice wobbles as he continues.

  
“So how come… I'm crying over him?”

  
The blue streaks down his face in ugly sobs and tears, and he can't stop, so all he does is wail louder.

  
“I see.” He hears the murmured words.”You were Allen's friend, too.”

  
\---

  
When it comes time for the clown to leave, Red goes with the him.

  
Mana.

  
His Mana

  
-

  
Red grows used to the constant orange-yellow-blue. It never changes, and maybe that means something is wrong with Mana, but he can ignore that because Mana loves him… right?

  
-

  
His name is Allen now. He's being named after the dog, he is…

  
He is..

  
-

  
Mana teaches him what colors are, describes them and teaches him new ones, not just ‘yellow, blue, green, red’ but 'sunshine yellow, sky blue, rich green, scarlet’.

  
Colors are beautiful.

  
-

  
The world is still dark.

  
-

  
Mana dies.

  
There's no more unchanging orange-yellow-blue, only black, and it hurts, the deep, drowning blue is back, but now it's shrouded in black, and he can't breathe.

  
Then a man, big smile, top hat, and completely black, appears, and he must be Death; who else could it be?

  
He says yes.

  
Then Mana is alive, but he's still black but now there's purple and blue and red.

  
The turquoise-white appears, and he screams, but Mana still dies, and this second time, it's still his fault. His face burns red-yellow-white and then scarlet-orange and gold appear, and he wishes he could've seen the turquoise-white one more time before he dies.

  
\---

  
He doesn't remember much in the next few months. There are flashes of searing white, burning red and munsell yellow, and he hasn't seen the beautiful turquoise tinted white in so long. Then there's a moment; one moment that he remembers:

  
Scarlet-orange is here.

  
“Did you really love Mana that much?”

  
He doesn't respond. It burns.

  
“Fight it, Allen. Remember… what he said?”

  
“Don't stop.”

  
A flash of orange-yellow-blue, white face, a painted smile, a top hat.

  
“Keep Walking.”

  
One last smile. A 'thank you’ that ripped his soul to shreds down to the drowning blue and turquoise-white.

  
The blue is too much, and he feels it leaking down his face in tears.

  
-

  
Scarlet-orange-gold is named Cross Marian. Master.

  
And the turquoise-white, though the man doesn't call it that, is named Innocence. It's oddly appropriate.

  
He turned Mana into an Akuma, into black and purple and blue, and he's going to save the Akuma. He's going to save them all.

 

-

  
He can see their souls. Apparently, that's not something everyone can do. He wonders if anyone else can see the dark purple and too blue, but doesn't have time to ask before he's forced to dodge another Level 1 Akuma’s attack. The white edged turquoise of his Innocence shines yellow and brown and orange as he fights.

  
This is the shittiest training exercise ever. He better not die.

  
-

  
Cross is a fucking asshole.

  
-

  
The scarlet-orange and gold of his Master's aura has become a comfort to him. And through the nights where he can't sleep, where even the turquoise-white of his deactivated Innocence isn't enough, he'll take in the grey tranquility of the man's slumber, and note the ever present white-red-gold-silver of his Master's Innocence, Judgement, by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, I don't own D. Gray-Man. But I still love this fandom, and if anyone wants to talk about it, you can come to me! Also, I'm going unbetaed with this, so if you find any spelling or grammar errors, please don't be afraid to let me know! Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment if you feel like It
> 
> So I'll be leaving the meaning of the colors in the description if you want to learn, or didn't quite understand.  
> Burning/Dingy yellow - intense pain  
> Dull grey - numbness to emotion  
> (Too much) pale blue - too cold  
> Pure White - Innocence, purity  
> Turquoise - wisdom, love, loyalty, calm, friendship, partnership  
> Brown - safe, healing  
> Yellow - hope, warmth, happiness  
> Yellow-green - sickness  
> Dark green - greed  
> Malicious/Deep Purple - arrogance  
> Black - aggression, evil, death  
> Pink - playfulness, love, sweet  
> Deep/Drowning Blue - deep, overwhelming sadness  
> Faded Red - sore pain  
> Orange - joy, enthusiasm  
> Brilliant Blue - dramatic  
> (Too much) Blue - melancholy  
> Red - anger, malice  
> Dim Red - fading anger  
> Murky brown-green - gross feeling  
> Bright, golden yellow- love, warmth, happiness, hope  
> White - blinding pain  
> Scarlet-orange - passion, desire, domination, anger  
> Gold - extravagance, courage, passion  
> Silver - graceful, sophisticated
> 
> Also, I did my research and having too much or too little of a color can have an effect too. So that's what it means when right that. I've also decided that the fading or dulling of a color represents the dulling of an emotion, understanding, concentration, etc.


	2. Chapter 2

He hadn't thought anything of it at first. 

Of how a little complaint of the stinging, munsell yellow after training earned him a weird look from Master. Or how the mentioning of the cloud of black shrouding an Akuma’s core of dark purple and deep, drowning blue muddled his master's scarlet-orange and gold aura. 

Only after an encounter with a pickpocket, a woman (dark green and too much blue contrasting with her beautiful appearance), does Allen really question how no one noticed anyone else's true nature.

“Master?” Allen looks up sheepishly.

Cross, already a few drinks in, scowls down at his apprentice, aura flashing a little too red for Allen's liking. Allen pretends not to cower and puts on a cool grey front.

“What the fuck is it, Brat?”

“Why do you let women like that near you?”

Cross’ scowl only deepens, and he stares down at him as if he's a particularly dim child. Maybe he is to Cross.

“What do you mean 'why do I let women like her near me’? Look at her, Idiot Apprentice!”

“But..” Allen mumbles uncertainly, glancing at the woman's dark aura again. “She’s so… green and there's so much blue!” 

By the end he's barely speaking at an acceptable level, and when he looks back up at Cross, eyes brimming with confused tears, the muddled look of his aura is back.

“Green?” Cross nearly whispers, eyebrows scrunched together and a perplexed frown marring his features. “Blue? Kid, what the fucking hell are you talking about?”

“Her… aura?” Allen whispers back, just as confused. “Can't you see them? The colors?” 

Cross stares down at him, a green tinged white swimming into his aura and washing out the fiery red.

“Let's go,” he orders suddenly, shooting up from his seat and walking briskly out of the bar. He doesn't bother looking back to see if Allen is following. 

On his way after his Master, Allen passes the green-too blue woman and, for good measure, pickpockets Cross’ wallet back from her. Subtly, he slips it back into his Master's cloak, the man none the wiser.

\--- 

Cross takes him to a doctor. A _doctor_. 

The man and Cross whisper harshly to each other in the corner _(more of Master being the harsh one, but that's not surprising)_ for several minutes before the doctor comes over and asks him several questions.

“What color is this card?”

“Pink.”

“What color is the wall?”

“Beige.”

“What colors am I?” 

At this, Allen pauses for a moment, taking note of the man for longer than the initial, cursory glance. Grey, silver and brown are the main foundations of the man’s core and on the very surface are tinges of rich green and light blue. 

He's a good man. Allen tells him so. 

The man frowns in confusion, and the grey and brown in his aura muddle a little.

“I'm sorry, could you elaborate?” 

Allen does. “Your core is.. grey, silver and brown, though the brown and grey are a bit dull right now… and there's some rich green and light blue around you as well.” Allen then notices the man's clothes. “Oh, and your shirt is dark grey, your pants and shoes are black and your coat is white. Does that answer your question?” 

The doctor frowns, the muddled grey and brown clearing slightly as a hint of green tinged white, similar to Cross’, enters Allen's vision. Giving a pointed look to Cross, the doctor walks deliberately to his filing cabinets, opening the drawer labeled S-T. Cross walks over to join him as the man picks out a file. 

A little more murmuring between the two occurs before Cross’ aura brightens with white-green again. He steals a look at Allen quickly before whispering to the doctor and nodding towards Allen very unsubtly. 

The doctor nods uncertainly, the grey growing a bit muddled again.

“Allen,” the doctor says to draw Allen's attention even though he already has it. “I believe we've found something to explain the… colors.” 

Allen blinks once. Twice. “Colors? What's wrong with the colors?” Because clearly something is wrong, or Cross wouldn't have bothered with this.

“Nothing's… wrong,” the doctor says, but the light blue dulls even as the rich green remains clear. 

Allen gives him a bland look. “I think there is.”

The doctor looks away guiltily, a flush pink bursting into his aura as the same color overtakes his face as well.

“You've caught me,” the doctor smiles sheepishly, pink still present. “The truth is.. we believe we've found something very… interesting to say the least.” 

Allen raises an eyebrow questioningly and waits. The doctor shuffles the papers in his hands, the ones from the file, and looks down at them quickly.

“Allen,” he begins. “This is a thesis written by a German physician. It's the first medical description we've had of such a thing, and while it's not the same as what you seem to have.. I believe it to be similar.” 

The doctor hands Allen the paper as he continues explaining.

“Georg Sachs, the physician, describes a condition where a person’s sense of hearing and sense of sight combined. They saw colors for music.” 

Allen's eyes widen. _If that were the case then…_

“Then…” Allen's eyes grow misty with his uncertainty. “Not everyone can see the colors? They can't feel them?” 

The doctor hesitates before nodding.

“No, we can't feel the colors like you do, Allen,” the doctor confirms. “I believe, based upon this thesis, that your sense of emotion has somehow combined with your sense of sight. In other words, you can see emotions as colors.” 

Allen blinks, unconsciously crinkling the paper in his grip.

“And.. what's this… thing called?” 

The doctor smiles at him sympathetically, white flooding around him and answers, simply, “Synesthesia.”

\---

Later, when they're back in their hotel room, Allen is sitting on his bed, staring at the wall unseeingly, when he feels a heavy weight dipping at the end of the bed. He doesn't look up, but a flash of red (whether it's his Master's hair or the man's aura, he is unsure) in his peripheral confirms it to be Cross. 

They sit like that for awhile, a few minutes, maybe longer, waiting for the other to break. It ends up being Cross, but that's mostly because Allen doesn't have the emotional capacity right now to humour the man.

“What color am I?” 

There's no warning, Cross isn't a man for small talk unless there's a woman involved, and the sudden shattering of the silence startles Allen into breaking his staring contest with the wall.

“What…?” He asks, unsure if he had heard right. Cross scowls, even as Allen notices the tiniest hint of flush pink entering the man’s aura.

“What fucking color am I, you Brat? What, are you deaf too?” 

The insult is empty at best, as are most of Cross’ cruel words in moments like this. The familiarity is enough to bring a soft smile to Allen's lips.

“Colors, actually,” he murmurs, immediately gaining his Master's attention. “Scarlet-orange and gold.” He tells him, and Cross’ aura tinges with a dull grey before a near blinding yellow replaces it. The yellow, an uncharacteristically bright color for Cross, is immediately replaced by a huge smattering of deep purple.

“I see,” the man says simply, radiating that smug purple color so much that Allen feels as if a little has entered him as well. Why not screw with the man?

“You know,” Allen says innocently, only garnering a fraction of Cross’ attention. “I think my sense of touch has been affected by this too.”

Cross’ aura and face go completely blank, a sharp change from the deep purple arrogance, before he falls backwards fully onto the bed, covering his face with his arm and groaning like a dying man. 

Allen laughs at his misery and feels some of the deep blues in his chest ease into a light turquoise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Color meanings:  
> Munsell yellow - intense pain, revolting  
> Black - evil, death  
> Dark purple - gloom, sadness  
> Deep/Drowning blue - deep, overwhelming sadness  
> Scarlet-orange - passion, desire, domination, anger  
> Gold - extravagance, courage, passion   
> Dark green - greed  
> Too much blue - negativity, sadness, self-centeredness  
> Too much red - anger, loss of temper  
> Cool grey - indifferent, sophisticated, balanced  
> Green tinged white - my idea of combining the understanding of white and the harmony of green  
> Grey - practical  
> Silver - refined  
> Brown - security, stability, healing   
> Rich green - healing  
> Light blue - honesty and trustworthiness   
> Flush pink - embarrassment   
> Dull grey - uncertainty, lack of understanding  
> Blinding yellow - enlightenment  
> Deep purple - arrogance  
> Turquoise - wisdom, love, loyalty, calm, friendship, partnership 
> 
> Also, this part is IMPORTANT for the way this story is going to be set up, so yeah. The first couple chapters have been to create the setting, but from now on, I'll be jumping around the series with little snippets from the timeline. 
> 
> If you have any requests for scenes leave a comment and let me know. I honestly need all the help I can get lol
> 
> Also, for the research the doctor was talking about, I did look into that a bit. I'm pretty sure they didn't outright name it Synesthesia back in the 1800's, which is when D. Gray-Man is set, but for the sake of the story, I'm calling it that now.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Chapter 3

By the time he's reached the top of the cliff, he can feel the exhausted, faded red of his muscles screaming throughout his entire body. His hands throb with the hints of an ugly yellow, and overall his whole body is murky brown-green from his sweat. 

He cringes as he pulls himself up one final time to reach the top. Absolutely exhausted, he casts the golden golem beside him an exasperated glance as the faded red of his muscles sour with the addition of a bit too much red. 

At least it clears away some of his exhaustion.

“Why the hell did they build this place all the way up here?” Allen lets out an irritated breath, reeling in the red. “I finally made it. The Black Order Headquarters… I hope.”

Glancing to Timcanpy, Allen lets the red along with a hint of yellow enter his gaze. 

“Are you sure this is it, Timcanpy?”

The place gives off an odd aura, which is strange in itself, as Allen almost never receives an aura from anything but living beings. This place though…

The building is black with mystery, the unknown, but it's also very, very white. Usually, such purity would put him at ease, but this white doesn't feel pure. It's as if it's missing something. Something vital.

It makes him feel uneasy.

Despite this, he stands up and begins moving towards the castle, wary of the many black golems flying around him. Finally, having reached the entrance of the castle, which looks strangely like a giant face, Allen turns around and addresses a golem that has flown closer to him. He wonders if it's observing him.

“Excuse me,” he begins, speaking pointedly to the golem. “My name is Allen Walker. I was sent here by General Cross Marian, and I was hoping to discuss some issues with the priests here.”

After waiting a couple of minutes, Allen gets a short order to <<Take an examination from the gatekeeper behind him>>. He can't get a good read off of the speaker, only grasping flashes of silver-blue-black through the neutral gray of the golem's speaker.

Turning around to follow the instructions, Allen peers up at the face he'd seen earlier. Now that he's looking closer, Allen can see the slight change in aura around the face that he hadn't noticed before. The gatekeeper, as the voice had called him, gives off a neutral grey along with a deep purple and royal blue. 

Allen feels his eye twitch with red.

“Hi,” he mumbles uncertainly, looking up at the gatekeeper. “Nice to meet you..”

It's so sudden, when the gatekeeper moves, that Allen nearly jumps out of his skin in surprise. He feels like  _ his _ soul is the one being examined for once.

“X-Ray Examination. Determining whether the subject is Human or Akuma,” the gatekeeper announces. Allen stands stiffly, waiting for the gatekeeper to allow him entrance, when it's aura suddenly spikes with a yellow tinted black.

“This guy is an Akuma!!” the gatekeeper screeches shrilly.

“Huh!?” Allen exclaims in surprise, eyes widening in disbelief.

“This guy has a pentacle on his forehead; he's cursed! Get him out, out!! The pentacle is a mark of an Akuma; this guy is actually allies with the Millennium Earl!”

“What!?” Allen gapes at the gatekeeper, shocked by the outburst.

Of course, that's when the situation gets even worse, and Allen senses an additional aura. Shifting his attention to the more dangerous-feeling aura, Allen freezes up with yellow tinted black, not unsimilar to how the gatekeeper had.

A man lands on top of the building, and Allen would be blind if he couldn't see the blazing, insatiable red of the man's aura.

“You sure have courage, coming here alone…” the man's voice rings with the same fire as his aura, and Allen can feel the instinctive red of his own soul rising to meet it, to confront the other presence trying to snuff it out  _ (but he's not Red anymore) _ , before clamping down on the urge.

At least this new presence gives him somewhere to direct his attention other than the shrieking gatekeeper.

“Wait a minute!” Allen yells up to the man desperately. “I think you've mistaken me for some-”

Before he can even finish his explanation, the instinct to activate arises, and this one he lets take over. 

“What?” Allen gasps out as burning yellow spreads up his left arm. He's pushed back by some force that he can't see, the bright flash of white blinding him.

He looks down only for his aura to immediately sharpen in surprise. 

_ He damaged my anti-akuma weapon?? This can withstand Akuma bullets easily, but with just one hit, this guy.. is it possible that katana.. _

“You…” the man addresses him, aura still blazing like an inferno, and yes, Allen can see it. The flash of white from before was… “What's with that arm?”

“This is my anti-akuma weapon,” Allen explains before continuing, trying to push as much light blue into his voice as he can. “I'm an exorcist.”

“What?” the man exclaims gruffly before diverting his attention away from Allen.

“Gatekeeper!” The man yells, infuriated, and Allen hadn't realized how strong of an effect the man's emotions were having on him until they were no longer directed at him. He feels the red throbbing inside him and wants so badly to let it out, but he can't right now. Not when he still needs to prove his trustworthiness.

The gatekeeper stammers out some excuse, and for this one moment, Allen does retaliate, pounding his fists on the gatekeeper’s face as he shouts, “I'm a human! I may be cursed, but that doesn't mean I serve the Earl!”

“Ah! Don't touch me! You're cursed!” the gatekeeper squawks, yellow tainting his aura in disgust.

“Hmph, well, whatever,” the man grumbles behind him, grey tinging his voice. “If I check your insides, we’ll know for sure.”

“Innocence, activate!” The man commands as his katana begins to glow white. “I shall slice you with my Mugen.”

_ It  _ is _ Innocence!  _ Allen steps back cautiously, holding his burning yellow arm close. 

The man rushes forward, and Allen's colors flare in panic.

“Wait!” he bursts, bringing his left arm out to protect himself. “Seriously, wait! You should have gotten a letter of recommendation from Master Cross!”

The katana stops perhaps an inch from his nose, and Allen nearly has a heart attack. He senses the man's aura sharpen before a tinge of green enters his aura.

“A letter of recommendation,” he repeats disbelievingly. “From the General?”

Allen grasps onto his only hope, his aura lighting with a bright, golden yellow. 

“Yes, a letter,” he murmurs, relief clear in his voice. “Addressed to someone named Komui.”

The man's aura sharpens once more as his eyes widen in surprise. Quickly, though, his eyes narrow and whatever green had held his irritation at bay before is once again overrun by red. They stay that way, auras taught and tension hanging darkly between them, until a voice rings from the golem, this one different from the last, cream and brown even as it's tense with panic.

<<Kanda! Stop your attack! Gatekeeper, open the gate!>>

“Open the gate?” the Gatekeeper stutters out in disbelief.

<<We allow you to pass, Allen Walker.>> the voice says through the golem again, as the gate opens.

That's when Allen looks away from the man, watching as the gate opens before them. However, as if in retaliation to the loss of their impromptu staring contest, Allen finds the man's aura flaring again, the katana’s point held to his jugular threateningly.

<<Wait, wait, Kanda!>> comes the silver-blue voice again, a bit yellow with alarm this time.

“Komui..” the man, Kanda, apparently, mutters threateningly, red steadily rising. “What the hell is going on?”

<<I’m sorry>> Komui says, and the yellow is replaced with a hot pink. <<Simply put, this child is General Cross’ pupil. Say sorry, Squad Leader Reever! Go on, go on!>>

<<You make it sound like it was my fault!>> Allen hears the cream-brown voice from before exclaim.

<<Timcanpy is with him; that’s proof enough!>> Komui exclaims happily. <<He is on our side!>>

Afterwards, when Kanda continues to glare, there's another moment of stiff silence before a sudden intrusion disrupts it. In the form of a clipboard.

“Kanda!” a girl exclaims, voice laced with an odd combination of red and green. “I told you to stop! If you don't get in now, I'm closing the gate!”

Kanda looks understandably stricken and extremely insulted, the girl's green forcibly pushing down his red.

Allen just feels scared.

“Come on!” the girl pouts, admonishing.

And then they're inside.

Allen looks around in awe as the girl introduces herself, “I'm Lenalee! I'll be taking you to meet the Supervisor.”

Allen smiles with as much orange as he can muster. “Nice to meet you!”

Lenalee smiles back, and begins to lead him down a hallway when a flash of yellow quickly enters and leaves Allen's aura.

“Oh! Kanda!” Allen calls out to the other exorcist as he walks away. The katana at his side is now a muted white, deactivated. Yet, Allen can see the reflected red in Mugen that rests in Kanda's own soul, alongside something else he can't make out in the Innocence's deactivated form. 

Before Allen can take a chance to look over Kanda's aura more closely, the man looks ready to continue walking away again, so he instead calls out, “That's your name, right?” 

Holding out his hand, he continues, “Nice to meet you!”

Kanda looks at him, red flaring alongside an alarming amount of blue, and says dismissively, “Why the hell would I shake hands with someone who's cursed?”, before walking away.

The dull red Allen had felt up until then flares back to life, and his hand shakes with the effort it takes to restrain himself.

“I'm sorry!” Lenalee apologizes hurriedly. “He just got back from a mission, and he's a bit tired!”

Allen doesn't even have to look. He can  _ feel _ the muddled light blue in her voice.

\---

Lenalee is very… nice. If a bit scary. She gives him a tour of the Order, and Allen can't deny that her dominantly green and light pink aura is very soothing in comparison to all of the negative colors he'd been feeling before. There's something else there too, something he can't quite put his finger on, but he'll do his best to figure that out later.

_ (He ignores the whispers around him, and instead concentrates even further on Lenalee’s soothing green. They don't know anything anyway.) _

\---

“All exorcists go off to their missions from here,” Lenalee explains cheerfully, voice filled with a warm yellow. “So some people call this place ‘home’.”

_ Home. _

The word strikes him hard and he glances around the building again, this time from the inside. There's still the underlying feeling of black and not-white, but above it all is that familiar feeling of brown and yellow that he still remembers from all of those years ago. He looks down to his left arm, smiling at the ever-present turquoise-white.

_ Home. _

\---

He meets Komui. The man is still silver-blue with the familiar hot pink dancing across the surface as he jokes playfully.

Allen's happy to be able to put a face to the man's colors.

\---

The checkup, to say the least, is not fun. His left arm, now hanging limply in a sling, is completely grey, a huge difference from the burning yellow from before.

As the two head down, Allen fishes for information on the Innocence, feeling a soft flush pink at his own dark orange but wanting information regardless.

And that's when he feels the sickening white overtaking his body.

It's no wonder he struggles. The white isn't  _ pain _ per say, at least not any he's felt before, but it feels  _ invading _ and  _ wrong _ , as if it's absorbing every other color instead of allowing him to feel it for himself.

He shudders and struggles for all he's worth, vaguely hearing the conversation going on around him. He tries to call to his Innocence, but the numbing grey has overtaken any connection he felt with the turquoise-white. 

It's scary.

He keeps pushing, pushing, and even as Komui’s words, “The anesthesia won't allow it to move”, flash through his head, he still tries. Then he feels it. And it's so utterly  _ wrong _ , all Allen can do is stare at his left arm in horror. It's mangled and incomplete, but worst of all, the beautiful turquoise-white is dulled with grey and the hint of burning yellow. Allen wants to apologize, to say he's sorry, but he remembers what Master said and keeps his mouth shut. 

He can't right now.

That's when the being, the cause of the white,  _ (Hevlaska, he remembers Komui calling her) _ leans down to place her forehead against his, murmuring in soft admonishment, “I am not your enemy. It is dangerous to activate your Innocence when you are not fully synchronized.”

He feels the horrible yellow fade from his arm even as the grey grows stronger, but at least he isn't hurting his Innocence anymore. 

Allen cringes in on himself as Hevlaska begins to count.

\---

His synchronization rate is 83%. 

After a brief explanation of what, exactly, that means, and the revelation that he is the 'Destroyer of Time’, Allen fishes for a bit more information, feeling remarkably less guilty with red thrumming through his aura.

“Well then,” Komui smiles, hot pink bright as he holds out his hand. “That's about it for the long explanation. Let's fight together to save the world! Be prepared though, because you won't be making a single dollar out of it!”

Despite himself, Allen feels genuine yellow-orange bloom in his chest, chasing away the red.

“Sure..”

Komui's aura dances with light blue and an even lighter pink, making his smile more genuine. “Welcome to the Black Order, Allen.”

Allen smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, here are the colors:  
> Faded red - sore pain  
> Ugly yellow - more intense pain  
> Murky brown-green - gross feeling  
> Too much red - can be shown as agitation or loss of temper, the addition of red can also help get rid of exhaustion  
> Yellow - uncertainty, disgust, alarm  
> Black - mystery, authority  
> Not-white - white is supposed to be the combination of all colors, so by saying something feels off about the white, Allen is saying that a color is missing, not-white is meant to represent that it appears pure but isn't   
> Silver - high-tech, more lively and playful than grey  
> Blue - intelligent   
> Neutral grey/Grey - neutral, no emotions  
> Deep purple - arrogance  
> Royal blue - superiority  
> Red - anger, loss of temper, agitation  
> Yellow tinted black - fear  
> Burning yellow - intense pain  
> White - Innocence, purity  
> Light blue - trustworthiness   
> Green - balances out red, harmony, soothing  
> Golden yellow - hope  
> Cream - New ideas  
> Brown - security, stability, warmth, safety  
> Hot pink - playfulness  
> Orange - joy, enthusiasm  
> A flash of yellow - remembrance   
> Muted white - deactivated or weak Innocence  
> Too much blue - cold, uncaring, dampens spirits  
> Dull red - fading anger  
> Muddled light blue - dishonesty, lying  
> Light pink - tender love  
> Warm yellow- warmth, happiness  
> Turquoise-white - the default colors of Allen's innocence, white for Innocence and purity and turquoise for love, partnership, etc.  
> Yellow - hope, warmth  
> Grey - numbness, doesn't feel pain  
> Flush pink - embarrassment, ashamed  
> Dark orange - deceit   
> Sickening white - this is supposed to represent Hevlaska when she's examining Allen (for lack of a better word). Even in the manga, Allen describes the feeling as invading and wrong.  
> Yellow-orange - amusement, entertainment  
> Also, when an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions.
> 
> Ugh these color lists are gonna get so long with more human interaction. Allen why can't you be more antisocial like me lol. Also, I think I accidentally made Allen super sassy. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Also, I know it's kinda an awkward place to stop, but if I fit in the scene I wanted to it'd be way too long. You'll find out what Allen was talking about with Cross in the next chapter. Flashback time!
> 
> K, thanks for reading this chapter, guys! I've gotta go do homework now! See you next Sunday!


	4. Chapter 4

After making up with Hevlaska  _ (looking past the  _ white wrong invading white _ , her aura is actually very soothingly grey with mixes of soft lavender and a deep indigo) _ and making it to his new room, Allen wonders briefly where Timcanpy has wandered off to before his mind drifts to another time, another memory.

\---

_ It hadn't been long since Cross had found out about his Synesthesia, actually. It figured the man would only need to find one puzzle piece before he began to fit all of the others into place as well. _

_ It started, at first, with the Akuma. Cross had figured out, of course, that Allen could see an Akuma’s soul within a few days of them leaving Mother's. Akuma were naturally attracted to the General's uniform, so it didn't take long for them to run into one. _

_ The colors Allen had seen that day were like none he'd ever seen. _

_ An Akuma's soul was shrouded in black while the soul itself was so very blue, enough to drown him, and the purple of its soul was nearly dark enough to blend in with the black. The colors made him want to weep, sob, fall into a pit of despair from which he could never climb out of, hands bloodied and searing white from his effort to escape. _

_ And for that first time, he nearly did fall, if not for the awakening, burning yellow hidden deep within the soul.  _

_ It was in pain.  _

_ Allen needed to save them.  _

_ And he would. _

_ - _

_ Of course, he'd still thrown up from the onslaught of colors, but that was beside the point.  _ (He did better the next time anyway.)

-

_ His reaction had led to the discovery that he could see these souls, and at the time, Allen had even described the colors as he tried to convey the Akuma's pain to Cross. _

_ It had only served to confuse his Master then, but now… _

_ “So…” Allen looked up to Cross, a bit startled at the man's sudden vocalisation.  _

_ They'd been walking in silence, in search of a place to stay for the night, after a recent Akuma battle. Allen's muscles ached with faded red, but the color was becoming familiar to him as well as less of a hindrance.  _

_ Allen tilted his head in silent question, continuing to gaze at his Master with wide, curious eyes. _

_ Cross scowled in response, huffing out, “You said an Akuma's soul is black, blue, and purple, or some shit, right?” _

_ It was less than subtle. Honestly, Allen didn't even need to see the sharpness in his Master's aura. Cross could be ridiculously obvious when it came to his curiosity. Especially when it came to things he didn't have a clue about whatsoever. _

_ Allen nodded in agreement, looking away and hiding his amusement in favour of focusing on the question.  _

_ “Yellow as well,” he added, growing solemn. “A burning, ugly yellow…”  _

_ His gaze met Cross’ again, tears brimming  _ (a bit too much blue, but nothing he couldn't handle) _ in his eyes.  _

_ “They're in pain, Master,” Allen swallowed thickly but continued to gaze at his Master, gauging the man's reaction. _

_ It was more subtle this time, but along with the tightening around Cross’ eyes, Allen saw a small hint of black shrouded blue flash into his Master's aura, curling briefly around the gold for a moment before flitting out again, as if it were never there at all. _

_ Back to business, Cross continued, “Have you noticed anything else at all? Anything that you believe others wouldn't have noticed?” _

_ Allen very nearly scowled, red tinging the edge of his aura. _

How would he know what other people can or can't see? It wasn't as if he'd ever seen the way they had… Stupid Master

_ Instead of pointing this out, he replied, “I'm not sure, Master. I'll let you know if I notice anything though.” _

_ Master nodded, accepting the answer, though he did glance down warningly at Allen for a brief moment. He'd probably let some of the red slip into his voice. Oops. _

_ Regardless, the discussion ended, and for a while afterwards, Allen didn't think about it. _

_ - _

_ They'd run into a larger group of Akuma than usual, and though Cross seemed near oblivious, or at least uncaring, to the implications, Allen almost immediately noticed the Akuma's likely reason for appearing. _

_ There was Innocence nearby, Allen didn't need to see it to know that. There was always a different feel to an area near Innocence. The Innocence's pure white seemed to charge the air until it was sparking with the white as well as the Innocence's own unique signature. _

_ Allen had long since grown used to his Innocence's constant turquoise-white as well as Judgement's red-gold-silver-white, but being around Innocence so often, especially activated Innocence, had sharpened his senses enough that it was all too easy to feel the Innocence's pure white tugging at his senses, as if it were begging for attention. _

_ This Innocence, in particular, remained grey, though the pure white was enough to alert Allen to its potential to enact its power on the land around it. Master had told him, one drunken night, about the Innocence's ability to affect both living and nonliving beings, even without an accommodator. It seemed this Innocence hadn't reached such a point yet but was still unlucky enough to have attracted the Akuma's attention. _

_ “Master!” Allen yelled across the battleground, where Cross was finishing off the final Level 1 within the vicinity. For now, anyway. _

_ “What is it, Idiot Apprentice?” Cross snapped, clearly annoyed by the Akuma's presence and disturbance of any of his previous plans for the night. _

_ “We should go retrieve the Innocence before the Akuma find it!” Allen shouted back, urgent. “They can't be that far from finding it; it feels very close!” _

_ “What the hell do you mean, ‘Innocence’?” Cross yelled back, red flaming with his growing irritation.  _

_ “I mean I can feel it around here somewhere, Master!” Allen yelled back, frustration flowing red within him as well. “Can't you? The white is somewhere…” _

_ That's when it dawned on Allen, that maybe… _

_ Glancing up to meet Cross’ eyes, Allen saw the same realization flash across the man's face, sharpening his aura, before hearing a very resigned sounding “fuck” leave his Master's lips. Sighing in exasperation  _ (they were so going to be talking about this later) _ , Allen forcefully sharpened his aura, focusing on the task at hand. _

_ “It's this way, Master,” Allen called over his shoulder as he turned in the direction where he felt the pure white most strongly. He began to run in that direction, and after a few seconds, Allen heard Master's footsteps following as well. _

_ Yeah, they were definitely going to be having words about this. _

_ - _

_ “So…” Cross began, a scoff clear in his voice even without the irritated red of his aura. The muted white of the newly acquired Innocence rested safely in his pocket. “Innocence too now?” _

_ Allen smiled, amused despite himself, and replied simply, “Apparently.” _

_ Cross didn't flop back onto the bed like last time as Allen had half expected him to do, but he did lean forward, covering his face with his hands and groaning. Loudly. _

_ “Fuck, kid, you're gonna give me grey hair. I'm too old for this shit,” Allen heard his Master's despairing words, muffled through his hands. _

_ Allen would feel bad, if he wasn't a little shit, that is. _

_ “If it helps at all,” Allen grinned, unrepentant. “We're definitely running out of things for me to be able to identify.” _

_ Cross groaned louder, falling back on the bed in what appeared to be complete despair, judging by the heavy blue hanging around the man's aura. _

_ Again, he would feel a little bad, but a couple existential crises could probably do his Master some good.  _

_ In the very least, it did do Allen good. _

_ \--- _

_ “Allen,” Cross addressed his student before him, voice monotonous. _

_ “Yes, Master?” Allen looked up, voice shaking in opposition to his sharpening aura. There was a suspicious black hanging around the edges of his Master's aura, and Allen  _ really _ didn't like it. _

_ Oblivious to his apprentice's inner turmoil, Cross continued to acknowledge Allen's progress in his training over the past 3 years, finishing almost proudly with, “From today on, you are now an exorcist.” _

_ Allen would have been touched  _ (and slightly scared) _ by the dash of pink in his Master's aura if not for the ever growing black, now swimming around his Master's shoulders ominously. _

_ Instead, he stayed silent, allowing Cross to continue his explanation as Allen continued to watch the black's every twist and turn.  _ (For now, he squashed down the budding sunshine yellow in his aura. He could embrace the color once the immediate danger before him had been dealt with.)

_ “But,” Cross said, further trampling the rising yellow. “You must first go to Headquarters and meet the people there.” _

_ Cross stood, towering menacingly above Allen, black now completely shrouding his aura, with a mallet held in his grasp. _

_ Allen blanched, already seeing where this was going, even as Cross asked, “You do know where Headquarters is, right?” _

_ Allen nodded jerkily, colors sharpened and eyes wide.  _

_ “Yes…?” _

_ “I'll have Timcanpy accompany you,” Cross continued, gesturing to the golden golem flying beside him. “I'll even recommend you to the Head Supervisor, Komui.” _

_ Grinning darkly, Cross began to advance slowly on Allen, even as his apprentice backed up warily. _

_ “When you wake up, go forth!” Cross ordered, raising the mallet above his head. _

_ Allen sighed, mostly resigned even as his every instinct told him to run away from the menacing black.  _

_ “You're not coming with me, are you?” he muttered, aura slowly dulling as he accepted his fate. _

_ “Fuck no,” Cross spat, finally bringing the mallet down. “I hate Headquarters!” _

_ Just before the hit came, however, Allen heard the mallet stop, perhaps an inch from his head, as his Master instructed softly, “I know you have a habit of pointing out people's colors, Idiot Apprentice, but try to keep it under wraps. Especially your ability to sense Innocence, you hear? They're already going to have a fucking field day with that eye of yours. Don't you play into their hands, Brat…” _

_ There was a moment where Cross clearly let Allen absorb his words before a searing white overtook his head, and then the world itself turned black. _

_ - _

_ He awoke some time later with a splitting headache and no clue as to where his Master had disappeared to. He couldn't even sense Judgement's red-gold-silver-white. At least he had Tim… _

_ - _

_ Fucking Cross. _

\---

Shivering at the onslaught of memories, Allen looks around his new room, urging the awful thoughts of his Master away. Upon seeing the picture of a grinning jester above his bed, Allen sits up and reaches towards it, hand resting at the clown's feet. It’s quite a strange coincidence that he's gotten the room with the picture of a clown, after all.

“Finally,” he whispers. “I've made it, Mana. I'm at the starting point.”

Gazing down at his bed, Allen remembers a smiling clown and a flash of orange-yellow-blue.

“Don't stop walking. Keep moving forward.”

_ I don't care about fate.  _

_ The imminent death at the hands of his father's Akuma.  _

_ The bright flash of turquoise-white as his Innocence activated for the first time. _

_ His father's soul, free of black. _

_ I have chosen this path myself.  _

“I promise,” Allen told the poster before him, remembering every color he'd ever been taught by Mana. Remembering the first time he'd ever felt sunshine yellow for himself. “Whatever the cost, I won't stop walking. I'll keep walking until the day I die…”

-

And honestly, despite everything that's ever happened to him, he still hopes that his Innocence's turquoise-white is the last thing he ever sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, here are the color meanings:   
> Sickening white - invading, wrong  
> Grey - neutral, formal, sophisticated  
> Soft lavender - a mix of light purple and light pink  
> Light purple - feminine energy  
> Light pink - tender love  
> Deep Indigo - extremely intuitive  
> Black - evil, death, mystery (Cross being a snek)  
> Deep/Drowning blue - deep, overwhelming sadness  
> Dark purple - gloom, sadness  
> Searing white - blinding pain  
> Burning yellow - intense pain  
> Faded red - sore pain  
> Too much blue - sadness   
> Black shrouded blue - combining the grief of black with the depression of 'too little blue’  
> Gold - courage  
> Red - irritation, anger  
> Pure white - Innocence  
> Turquoise-white - the default colors of Allen's innocence, white for Innocence and purity and turquoise for love, partnership, etc.  
> Red-gold-silver-white - Judgement’s default colors  
> Muted white - deactivated Innocence  
> Pink - love, affection  
> Sunshine yellow - happiness   
> Orange - joy, enthusiasm   
> Yellow - hope, warmth, happiness  
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.
> 
> So I've been thinking about making a separate fanfic devoted to the color meanings instead of just putting them in the description. I dunno, we'll see what happens.
> 
> Also, sorry if this one is a little rough. It was kinda hard to write, honestly. I still hope you all enjoyed it though!
> 
> Anyways, I'm off! Thank you for reading, and comment down below if you feel like it!


	5. Chapter 5

It's morning.

The sun is a cheery yellow, immediately perking Allen up with the reminder of such a happy color. He quickly goes through his morning routine and, after finishing his 300 one-armed handstand push-ups, heads out of his room to get some breakfast.

_(He only gets lost on his way to the cafeteria twice, which he is very proud of himself for. It kind of helps that he continuously asks every person he meets for directions, but he gets there eventually, and that's what matters.)_

Making his way to the counter, to order his food, Allen glances around himself as he waits in line. The Order, even on the inside, rings with the unsettling not-white, but the cafeteria itself surrounds him with a homely beige, the atmosphere comforting if professional. But this is clearly the time for people to relax, in this room with a meal and comrades, the beige tinted with yellow and orange. It makes Allen smile.

“Who's next?” Comes a voice from ahead of him, a startling hot pink.

Allen turns around expectantly, only momentarily startled by the amount of light purple surrounding the man before him, before smiling, finding a bit of comfort in the color. The light purple is complemented nicely with both light and hot pink.

“Hm?” the man hums in surprise upon seeing Allen stepping forward. “A new recruit?”

Allen gives a hesitant nod, still a little put off by the intensity of the man's hot pink.

“Wow, and what a pretty boy! It's nice to meet you! My name is Jeryy!”

Allen flushes pink at the man's compliment, smile growing a bit more light blue.

“It's nice to meet you too,” he greets back, yellow and grey. “My name is Allen.”

“Oh, and so polite!” Jeryy gushes, fawning. “What can I get you, hon? I can make you anything!”

_Anything…_ Allen thinks, expression lighting up.

“Well then…”

After listing off the many foods he'd like to eat, Allen looks to Jeryy expectantly, already turning flush pink at the man's sharpened aura.

“Are you sure you can eat all of that, sweetie?” Jeryy asks uncertainly, but his aura is already brightening with a blinding, sunshine yellow at the prospect of making so much food.

“Don't worry,” Allen is quick to reassure. “I can.”

Jeryy hums thoughtfully before beaming brightly at Allen.

“Alright, hon,” he says. “It'll be a little while before it's finished, so you go ahead and sit down while I make it! I'll call you over when I'm done!”

With that, Jeryy shoos Allen away, not unkindly, before heading back into the kitchen. Allen moves to do as he was told, before a sudden flare of red catches his attention just as an angered shout silences the cafeteria.

“What did you say!?” a large man  _(a Finder based on his clothes, if Allen remembers correctly)_ , yells from across the hall. “You wanna say that again!?”

Already heading in the direction of the commotion, Allen hears a soft “Buzz, stop it.” before another, more familiar voice commands, “Be quiet. You're ruining my meal with all of your fucking whining.”

It's Kanda, Allen realizes quickly, recognizing the inconsolable scarlet of the man's aura. Allen even catches the hints of muted white from Mugen where the katana is leaning against the bench.

“Is that how you show respect for your comrades!?” The finder continues to yell in fury, aura completely shrouded in red. “We, the Finders, support you Exorcists with our lives, and you… you're saying that mourning their deaths makes your meal taste bad!?”

The man's aura flares as he sends a punch for Kanda's head, but before Allen can interfere, Kanda is already moving, tilting his body to avoid the punch before striking the man, Buzz, hard in the throat, cupping his neck and lifting, effectively choking him.

Buzz gives a startled gasp as Kanda sneers at him, continuing to choke the Finder as he says, “Support us? All you _can_ do is 'support us’. You guys were the ones who weren't chosen by the Innocence. If you don't want to die, run away. Your insignificant life can be replaced at anytime.”

There's something blue, too blue, about the way Kanda says that, but Allen doesn't have time to analyse it further because Kanda's hold is tightening alarmingly quickly.

Grabbing onto Kanda's wrist, deliberately using his left arm, Allen commands shortly, “Stop it.”

He puts as much green into it as he can even as he tightens his hold on Kanda's wrist, knowing he doesn't have that much control over his own red. Red won't solve this, though he doubts green will do much either coming from him.

“I'm sorry to interrupt you when this has nothing to do with me,” he begins, tone and grip firm. “But I don't think this is a good way of resolving things.”

Kanda looks at him, disbelief in the sneer marring his face and red spiking into dangerous levels.

“Back off, Beansprout.” Kanda commands, eyes narrowed. Absently, Allen notes that Kanda has already dropped the Finder, but that's not what catches his attention.

_Beansprout!?_

Something in Allen snaps at the new nickname, and whatever green front he had been trying to keep up is completely overcome by red.

“My name is Allen,” he retorts, as much red as is socially acceptable (and probably a bit more) put into his voice.

Kanda's sneer turns upwards into a smirk, and it's ugly to look at, all red and completely infuriating.

_(If he hadn't been so red himself, maybe he would have seen that little something else hiding in Kanda's eyes. But he doesn't, not with his senses clouded by red, so for now, it goes unseen.)_

“Heh,” Kanda huffs out a laugh, mocking and just as ugly as his smirk. “If you don't die within the month, I'll remember your name. There are many who die here, like these guys.”

Kanda sneers down at Buzz, who remains slumped on the floor where Kanda had initially dropped him, gasping for air with his red muffled in the wake of Allen's and Kanda's overflowing scarlets.

Allen tightens his hold on Kanda's wrist, warning. He could snap it, if he really wanted to. He knows this, but again, he has more self control than that _(he's not Red)_ , so he just turns his burning eyes on Kanda.

“As I said,” he admonishes. “That's not a good thing to say.”

Kanda's eyes burn right back into his, scolding him with the fire surrounding them both.

“I hate your type,” he murmurs, deep purple entering the flames. “You won't last a month.”

Allen challenges his purple with orange, too much orange, replying, “We'll see about that.”

That's when the flames are interrupted by a shout of cream and brown.

“Kanda! Allen!” Reever calls from across the hall, catching both of the boys’ attentions. Lenalee is walking with him. “Eat your food and head down to the Supervisor's office in 10 minutes. You've got a mission!”

And with that, he walks away, unaware of the smoldering fire still burning between the two exorcists.

-

10 minutes later, they're in the Supervisor's office, and he appears to be… sleeping. Allen knows for a fact that he's actually asleep, not just faking it, because his senses are clearly muted. For some reason, Allen's not as surprised as he probably should be.

“Supervisor!” Reever calls, shaking the man. He doesn't wake up. “Supervisor Komui!”

Shaking him a few more times, Reever smacks the Supervisor upside the head. Allen would be alarmed if the action had elicited anything more than a grumble from the man.

What happens next, however, does cause Allen's senses to sharpen.

“Hey, Supervisor,” Reever whispers into the man's ear, almost conspiratorial if not for the dark orange tinting the man's aura. “I heard that Lenalee's getting married..”

The following shriek startles Allen, and he jumps a little from the sudden sound.

“Lenalee!” Komui practically wails, blue encompassing his entire aura. “How could you get married without telling your own brother!?”

Beside Allen, Lenalee is blushing furiously, and Reever’s colors are muted, completely resigned to his fate.

“Sorry about him,” he sighs, red tinging his voice. “It's the only way we can wake him up.”

It takes a little bit to calm the distressed older brother down, but eventually, Allen and Kanda are sat together on the couch _(as far away from each other as is physically possible)_ as Komui apologizes for having been asleep when they had walked in.

“Alright,” he begins, aura shrouded in grey and black. “We don't have much time, so after you hear the summary, you'll be heading out. If you want more details on the mission, just read from this file on your way there.”

Lenalee hands them both packets as Komui gives the explanation. Allen smiles politely in thanks, yellow-grey, before turning his attention back to Komui.

“You two will go as partners,” Komui continues.

Allen and Kanda's auras immediately spike with red, looking at each other in something akin to disgust.

Pouting slightly, aura tinting hot pink, Komui mutters, “Already not getting along, huh? Well, no excuses!”

With this, Komui draws down a map, gold flashing through his aura with his extravagance.

“We've found Innocence in southern Italy,” he continues, back to being grey-black. “However, it may get taken by an Akuma. Your job is to destroy the enemy and secure the Innocence.”

Allen looks down at the folder in his hands, contemplating. He'll definitely want to read this on the way there.

“Okay!” Komui says, hot pink encompassing him again. “Since the summary is over, it's time for you two to head out. I expect you both to be ready to leave as soon as possible!”

And with that, they're off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the colors for this chapter:  
> (Sunshine) yellow - happiness  
> Not-white - not pure  
> Beige - dependable, conservative  
> Orange - joy  
> Hot pink - playfulness  
> Light purple - feminine  
> Light pink - tender love  
> Flush pink - embarrassment  
> Light blue - honesty  
> Yellow-grey - cheerfulness of yellow and formality of grey, polite  
> Red - anger, malice, loss of temper, irritation  
> Scarlet - more intense version of red  
> Muted white - deactivated Innocence  
> Too blue - sadness, cold, uncaring  
> Green - soothing, negates red  
> Deep purple - arrogance  
> Too much orange - pride  
> Cream-brown - Reever's aura, new ideas, security, stability, warmth, safety  
> Dark orange - deceit  
> Grey-black - authority, formal  
> Gold - extravagance
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc. Also, a muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.
> 
> Sorry for how short the chapter is, guys. I hope you all enjoy it anyway! Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next week!
> 
> P.S. Jeryy is actually really fun to write, you guys should try it sometime lol


	6. Chapter 6

They're on their way to southern Italy, train car compartment awkwardly silent after Allen, Kanda and their Finder, Toma, had discussed the details of the case.

Apparently, the Ghost Of Mater, a legend from the abandoned town in Italy they were currently heading to, is a living doll. It's likely powered by Innocence.

Great.

It's the silence reigning in the car more than anything else that causes Allen's mind to drift back to his interaction with Komui before they'd left.

-

 _“It's a bit big…” Allen murmurs to himself, glancing down at the trenchcoat-like uniform he'd been given. It's white and black with silver ornaments and buttons_ (he vaguely wonders if this is some sort of play on their fight, one against good and evil but quickly dismisses it. It's unlikely that the order would base their uniform off of such a thing...). _“Do I_ have _to wear this?”_

_“It's to show that you're an exorcist,” Komui comments from behind him, yellow-orange dancing across his aura. “Don't worry about it getting in your way during battle! They're engineered for it! Oh, and I also made your gloves easier to use!”_

_Komui's voice is enthused, silver and gold leaking into it as he speaks of his obvious passion. The man is a born scientist if Allen's ever seen one._

_A sudden rustling drags Allen's attention away from the joyous colors as he focuses his eyes on his sleeve. Timcanpy pops up from within the depths of his shirt sleeve, grinning at Allen and clearly pleased with himself._

_“Timcanpy!” Allen gasps, senses sharpening slightly. “Where the heck have you been?”_

_The golem’s grin widens, and a faint yellow-orange mixes with the usual hum of magenta surrounding Tim._ (Everyone seems to be making fun of him today…)

_The gleam of color surprises Allen a bit, but not in a bad way. Usually, it's hard to sense the golem's colors, whether it's because of the fact that he's not human or something else, Allen doesn't know._

(He'd say it was because Tim is a golem, but there's none of the fuzzy grey that Allen usually sees surrounding phones or, more recently, golems. It's something else, and even though he's spent almost all of his time with the little menace for the past couple of years, Allen still doesn't know why he can barely sense Tim's colors.)

_Of course, that's when the boat arrives, effectively diverting Allen's attention away from whatever cheeky response Timcanpy would have given him. He huffs out an exasperated puff of air, releasing some of the blue that’s been slowly building up inside of him since the debriefing. He can't get distracted now._

_As the boat is leaving, however, Komui calls after him, voice steady and aura tinted with tender pink._

_“Timcanpy has the ability to project what he's seen of someone's past,” Komui informs him, something both blue and indigo entering his voice. “I got a chance to see your adventures with him!”_

_And though the words disconcert him a bit, the soft muttering of “That's why I didn't get any sleep…” sends a wave of yellow-orange through him._

_“I'll be back!” Allen gives a smile, and it's not completely yellow, but it is light blue._

_“Later!” Komui calls back, smiling reassuringly. His aura tinges a tender pink. Allen wonders if it's some sort of default for the man: these familial colors. Probably._

_Regardless, he's off. Hopefully, he and Kanda won't kill each other. Hopefully._

_-_

It'd been an odd interaction to say the least, but Allen feels both he and the Supervisor may have grown some form of understanding between them. The same can definitely _not_ be said for him and Kanda.

The man, sitting across from him in the train, continues to radiate red as if he were some sort of furnace. It's deep and scarlet, appearing to go even deeper than just the surface like most feelings of anger. There's also the distinct color of off-red coming from him, irritated but in a way that's almost not red at all, with the number of colors mixed into the fray. Allen catches glimpses of yellow and a murky brown-green before an irritated voice cuts into his thoughts.

“What the fuck do you think you're looking at, Beansprout?” Kanda hisses at him, flames mingling with the words.

Allen restrains any signs of the color from entering his own voice, putting up a front of yellow-grey.

“Nothing,” he replies, and okay, maybe his smile isn't _completely_ polite, but at least he's not outright sneering. “I didn't mean to stare.”

Kanda glares at him for a moment longer, red spiking, before releasing some of the irritation with the clicking of his tongue, clearly dismissing him.

They spend the next 10 minutes or so in complete silence, two different reds clashing against each other in a palpable tension that Allen is sure even Kanda can feel. After the 10 minute mark, Allen gets up without a single word and walks outside to join Toma in front of the compartment.

He can still feel Kanda's red from here…

“Is there something you needed, Master Walker?” Toma asks, aura a pleasant yellow-grey in comparison to Kanda's raging colors. The color does lean more towards grey though; it has since he first met Toma, polite but distant. It'd be nice if Allen could get a little more emotion out of the man.

Belatedly realizing he'd been staring, Allen gives an awkward smile, projecting as much yellow as possible.

“No, not at all,” Allen replies. “I was just hoping to get out of the compartment. It's a bit… suffocating.”

Something almost orange tinges Toma's yellow, and Allen thinks he sees his eyes crinkle just a little before it's gone, replaced by green tinged white. The man probably understands more than Allen does; he's clearly been in the Order longer, at least.

“Yes,” the man replies, looking down at the cards laid before him. Allen resists the urge to touch them, shuffle them, cheat someone out of all of their money, and listens. “Master Kanda has been known to have such an effect on people.”

Allen, despite himself, let's out a small laugh, feeling yellow-orange settle nicely within his own aura. Toma seems like a pretty decent guy, if extremely professional.

“Is there anything else that I should know?” Allen asks, partially to keep the conversation going but mostly out of his own curiosity, the golden yellow practically burning in his gut.

Toma, for a moment, looks thoughtful, aura sharpening even further with his intent to find answers for all of Allen's unspoken questions.

Allen leans forward curiously as Timcanpy rests contentedly on his head, a comforting hum of magenta.

“Well…”

-

They've arrived in Mater at this point, and the first thing Allen notices is how run down the place is. The second thing he realizes is how the place practically _sings_.

He's found, from experience, that places affected by innocence usually begin to project their own colors. While he's almost never seen it _(inanimate objects’ auras are usually just a neutral hum of grey)_ Allen guesses the oddity will occur more often now since he'll be going on missions in search of such places.

 _(There is, of course, the exceptions. There's always that_ one _object out of the bunch that was loved or hated or cared for more than the others. The emotions of its owner linger with it. It's not all that dissimilar from Innocence, in that sense.)_

Mater, in particular, gives off a deep, heavy blue with such trace amounts of orange that he almost doesn't see them at all. The colors are familiar, in a way. He'd felt the same for years, both before and after Mana. It isn't a comforting familiar; it doesn't bring forward anything but green-white and blue and too little orange.

 _(Sometimes, for reasons like this, he hates his Synesthesia. He has to feel_ everything _that_ everyone else _feels. And sometimes, the world is just too negative too blue too dark purple. Sometimes, there's not enough white or yellow or orange.)_

_(But then there's always that spark of turquoise-white, always there, his rock in a sea of harsh colors, and he can face another day. He can try and make the world brighter.)_

Mater is sad, is missing something, and it's no wonder that it’s called the Land Forsaken by God. And the dolls…

“The Ghost of Mater is only a doll…” he mutters to himself as they race towards the town, recalling what they'd previously discussed on the train.

“It wouldn't be surprising if this were caused by Innocence,” Kanda says in reply, red focused away from Allen for once.

Of course, that's when he notices a third thing about Mater. It's completely covered in dust. Or, more specifically, ashes.

The finders are all dead.

Beside him, he feels a pang of deep blue run through Toma's aura before the man squashes the color down, back to his neutral grey. Regardless of the man's efforts, the color is slightly more cool grey than before.

“Damn,” Kanda curses beside him, looking down at the Finders’ remains. “We came here as soon as we got the transmission, but we were still too late.”

Allen grimaces, deep blue overtaking his aura. He wishes the Finders hadn't died. He wishes they had been _faster._

“Hey, you.”

He looks up, and yeah, Kanda is sneering at him again, eyes blazing red.

“I'll say this before we start,” he says, looking away to survey their surroundings. It feels dismissive. “I don't care if you're going to die. If I think you're in the way, I won't help you. There's always sacrifices in war, so don't think of me as your fucking partner.”

Allen feels the red entering his own aura. He's been resisting the urge; he knows how he gets when he's angry, but this is too much.

“I don't like your way of thinking,” he bites out, eyes burning into Kanda's.

Kanda looks indignant for a moment, red flaring into scarlet, but as he opens his mouth to snap back, there's a sudden explosion ahead of them.

Allen's eye activates, and looking over to Kanda, he can see the man has come to a similar conclusion. They meet each other's eyes briefly, Kanda's eyes widening at the appearance of Allen's curse, before narrowing again, off-red once again entering his aura.

“Let's go!” Allen barks out, aura dancing with lingering red and growing gold. As much as he resents his Master sometimes, the man's passion will always be something he doesn't regret channeling.

Clearly aggravated at being ordered around, Kanda shoots a glare at Allen before jumping ahead of him. And then, they're in the heat of battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the colors for this chapter:  
> White - pure, good  
> Black - evil  
> Yellow-orange - amusement  
> Silver - high-tech  
> Gold - passion  
> Magenta - spiritual  
> Fuzzy grey - neutral, represents static  
> Too blue - negativity  
> Tender pink - love, affection  
> Indigo - idealism  
> Yellow - happiness  
> Light blue - honesty  
> Red - agitation, anger, malice  
> Scarlet- more intense version of red  
> Off-red - resentment  
> Too little yellow - fear  
> Murky brown-green - gross feeling  
> Yellow-grey - polite  
> Green tinged white - understanding  
> Deep blue - deep sadness  
> Too little orange - loneliness  
> Dark Purple - gloom, sadness  
> Orange - joy, enthusiasm  
> Turquoise-white - Allen's innocence, purity, love, partnership  
> Cool grey - blue tinted grey, it's meant to show neutrality that can't hide the sadness underneath it
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.
> 
> So I know this story has been slow moving, and I'm sorry if that's boring for anyone. It wasn't my intention for it to be this way, but it's how it's turned out. Maybe it'll get better as I add more of my own twist to it.
> 
> Also, I'll do my best to get my next chapter up next Sunday as I've been doing, but midterms are this and next week, so I might be a bit off. I'm sorry!
> 
> Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! See ya!


	7. Chapter 7

Looking back, it probably wasn't the smartest decision jumping straight into battle. Especially without a plan. If he were to put blame anywhere, he'd put it on how Kanda's red has the uncanny ability of infecting him to the point of inhibiting his judgement.

_(Master would smack him upside the head and tell him to take responsibility for his own shitty habits. But Master's not here, so Allen's just going to blame Kanda for this one.)_

Regardless, putting blame where it may _(or may not)_ belong isn't a priority right now. For now, he kind of needs to _not die_ on his _very first_ mission.

Before he can think on it anymore, Allen finds himself face to face with the Akuma. Only…

_Flashes of memories assault his mind, jarring his thoughts._

The Akuma…

_(It has to be an Akuma. It certainly isn't Innocence.)_

It's form is that of a clown.

_A white painted face and red red lips._

The jester's hat on top of its head doesn't jingle as it moves.

“Smile!” the Akuma grins madly, eyes wide with an ugly, black tinted red-orange. Bloodlust.

_“Smile, Allen!” Mana reminds him as he juggles the rubber balls high into the air. Allen allows a small smile to overtake his face only to trip over his own feet and fall off of the large bouncy ball he'd been balancing on top of._

White, blinding white, shoots through him and takes over his vision as the Akuma slams him effortlessly into a building.

Vaguely, he hears the Akuma accessing him, commenting on how he's different from the others. Beneath the rubble that his rather rough landing had created, Allen physically shakes himself. He can't be this easily distracted. He's not going to die here.

_Keep walking…_

Not this easily, at least.

_Never stop._

Above him, Allen senses a faint hum of magenta from Timcanpy. Good. At least the Akuma hasn't gone after Tim.

Reactivating his left arm, Allen pushes the largest slab of rock off of him. He feels a trickles of blood run down his chin from where he'd bitten into his lip. Blood wells into his mouth from the small puncture wound, and Allen grits his teeth, grounds himself in the faded red of his body, and spits out his mouthful of blood.

He glares past the distorted dark purples and drowning blues of the Akuma's soul, looking straight to the overwhelming cloud of black. The sight makes him want to gag.

This Akuma… it isn't a Level 1; that much is clear. Even without its changed appearance, its colors have changed enough that Allen can immediately spot the difference. While the purples and blues still emanate from the Akuma's soul, they are stronger somehow, more intense, and even further past that, Allen can see something he's never noticed in a Level 1.

The Akuma's soul is an ugly, dingy yellow, and Allen can almost feel the soul's pain himself. It stings, and looking closer, Allen can see how the chains surrounding the soul are tighter, more constricting and suffocating. And still, the black is even _darker_.

Allen shakes himself. While his analysis clearly didn't take long _(he'd be dead if he took his sweet time doing these sort of things in battle)_ , he can't afford to zone out any longer.

Grasping for any remaining scarlet running through him, Allen pushes past the drowning blue and dark purple and ignores the stinging in his eyes that has nothing to do with the throbbing, faded red of his body.

“You're the one that killed the Finders!” Allen spits out alongside another mouthful of blood. His lip hasn't stopped bleeding yet.

The Akuma looks at him, uncomprehending for a moment, before it bursts into raucous, black laughter.

“My heart!” It gasps. “My soul! Can't you hear it? Throbbing, beating! I'm so excited! This is so much fun!”

Allen grimaces because, yes, he can hear (and see) the Akuma's soul, and while it may not be its soul that is excited, the Akuma itself certainly is. Allen watches with dawning horror as yellow-orange dances around the Akuma's black aura, taunting and out of place. This, paired with all of the evidence of its earlier behaviour, points to the Akuma being…

_(“A Level 2,” Master says gruffly, sipping at his wine. His words slur from the abundance of alcohol he's ingested, but as always, Cross’ eyes remain sharp, dancing with the dark blue he never fails to lose even when heavily inebriated._

_“Level… 2?” Allen murmurs. His aura muddles with his confusion, and he tilts his head questioningly._

_“What, you think we just called them Level 1 for no reason?” Master spits, deep purple and yellow-orange tinging his aura despite the scowl etched into his face. Sometimes, he thinks the man forgets that Allen can almost always see how he's really feeling despite whatever mask he puts up._

_Allen scowls back._

_Master heaves out a put upon sigh, looking at Allen seriously in the way he only does when he says something absolutely imperative to Allen's survival._

_“Akuma grow stronger the more they kill, brat,” Cross explains. His aura is deadly still, a deep, charcoal grey overtaking his usual scarlet-orange-gold. In times like these, despite his Synesthesia, it's nearly impossible for Allen to read past the surface of Cross’ emotions, beyond the seriousness and the flashes of long lost memories in the man's eyes._

_“Don't you dare add to that kill count.”_

_And with that said, Cross turns back to his bottle of alcohol.)_

Well, shit. He's never had the chance to fight anything stronger than a Level 1, despite the years he's spent with Cross.

Of course that's when, out of the corner of his eyes, Allen catches the sight of Kanda jumping from the rooftop. In front of him, the Akuma turns to watch him as well.

“Mugen,” Kanda murmurs, and yet his voice carries. Everyone here can hear his next words as well. “First Illusion: Netherworld Insects!”

In one fell swoop, all of the Level 1 Akuma in the area are gone _(well, shit)_ , the black dissipating around the blue-purple souls and becoming overrun with pure white until they're gone too. Mugen burns pure white and deep scarlet in Kanda's hands like the Innocence is covered in the Akuma's spilt blood.

_(Akuma blood is black not red. Like their bodies have been completely contaminated by the Earl's evil._

_Human blood is red, scarlet. Red._

_It fits, he thinks.)_

Allen watches as Kanda kneels down beside the befallen Finder.

_(The man's soul is blinding white and drowning blue, shrouded thickly in black, too much black. But, just before the black completely overtakes him, his soul shines with something, a faint yellow and grass green, sunshine on a meadow, a sigh of relief, and he's gone.)_

In the next moment, the Finder is dead, and Allen doesn't have time for tears as Kanda jumps into the crater where the Innocence is because suddenly, there's a spike of red-orange-black before him.

The Akuma howls in fury, screeching, “The dolls! I'll kill you! You can't take the Innocence! I'll kill you!”, in a horrific mantra that sounds almost self-indulgent with the dull grey in its aura. Before him, Kanda leaps up to one of the taller buildings using some of the smaller structures as leverage _(in the back of his mind, a small circus brat, so very red red red on the surface and bruised blue-purple both inside and out, is vaguely impressed but won't show it)_ , holding two figures in his grasp. One of them shines pure white, and Allen is flooded with grass green at the sight.

Kanda has the Innocence.

Allen finds it in him to smile, grass green leading into his usual yellow-grey mask _(that he can't seem to hold up with Kanda nearby, what the fuck)_ , calling out, “You go on ahead!”

For his part, Kanda scoffs back, colors still blazing with red.

“I won't help you!” Kanda yells back. “You've gotten yourself into this mess for being emotional and reckless, fucking Beansprout! Get out of there yourself!”

_(If Allen didn't know any better, he'd say he'd seen something: a flash of blue, so small that he almost mistakes it for suspicion, but no. This blue is rich and sincere. Definitely not something he'd expect from Kanda.)_

Allen nearly scoffs back with the sudden flood of red that nearly overtakes his yellow-grey facade. As it is, he's probably sporting a pretty unconvincing grimace.

“The name's Allen!” He calls back instead of focusing on any of the other words, no matter how the red burns against his tongue. Regardless of their differences, he can't find it in himself to lash out at Kanda when what he said is true. Even if he doesn't like it. _(And he_ really _doesn't like it.)_ “I'll catch up to you when I'm finished here.”

Kanda's aura sharpens, in surprise or focus he can't tell, before he's jumping across the rooftops, away from the upcoming battle.

Once Kanda is gone, Allen turns his full attention to the Akuma and lunges. The skirmish is clearly one sided as Allen quickly finds himself on the defensive. The clown-like Akuma _(a flash of a smile, never changing orange-yellow-blue)_ is strong, and quickly, Allen realizes he can't underestimate it, or he's going to be dead _very_ quickly.

They fight back and forth for a few minutes when Allen notices it. There's an opening: the Akuma is right in front of him, but something isn't right, there are no colors coming from it anymore. On instinct, he locates the black-blue-purple and flips up and back, over top of the Akuma as it stares up at him in surprise. Only, it's not the Akuma. At least, not on the outside.

Allen lands on his feet and doesn't waste time putting distance between him and… himself.

That's fucking weird, okay.

Before him appears to be an exact image of himself, only… its arm and curse are on its right side. A mirror image then.

“Oh?” The Akuma hums interestedly. “How did you realize my trick? I guess you exorcists really are different, aren't you?”

Its voice rings with yellow-orange, but Allen isn't fooled. The Akuma is shrouded in red, and its smile is deranged and mad like it's trying to keep up an act it never learned the part for.

Allen sneers back.

“How are you doing that?” he asks, aura tinted with the same dark orange it always is when he's fishing for information. It doesn't hurt to learn more about his opponent and, hopefully, Level 2’s in general. The Akuma seems like a talkative one.

“Oh, have you never seen a Level 2?” The Akuma asks gleefully, bloodlust shining red-orange and black in its eyes. “You see, I'm much stronger than a Level 1! We Level 2’s have a special ability, and we obviously have much better personalities! Mine is that I can copy someone else's power…” The Akuma raises it's right arm, the one mirroring Allen's Innocence Arm, and turns its hand into a weapon resembling a pitchfork. “...and I make it my own.”

The Akuma lunges again, arm raised to strike, and Allen rises to meet him, left arm ready to counterattack. They meet in the middle, and as Allen's aura sharpens in surprise and a dreading realization, the Akuma's arm splits and pierces into his Innocence arm. Gritting his teeth, Allen makes a split second decision and pulls his arm from the Akuma's grip, raking the Akuma's claw-like arm through his arm until it's free. He doesn't stop there, however, and aims for the ground, creating a small explosion of dust with the amount of force he uses to hit the ground.

Thinking back to the landscape around him, Allen flees through the dust while the Akuma's vision is still impaired. With another jolt of realization, Allen realizes that he can still sense the land around him to an extent. It isn't strong enough for him to sense the smaller parts of the abandoned town, but it's enough to keep him from crashing face first into a building.

By the time he stops to catch his breath and begin strategizing, he hears an outraged cry not to far away from where he's hiding. It's far enough though, and that's what matters. Settling down, he does a quick overview of his injuries _(His lip has stopped bleeding, that's good. A light creaking in his ribs tells him he's gonna have to watch out if he doesn't want cracked or broken ribs, and there are multiple gashes in his left arm. Fuck, he's going to have to get that looked at by Komui later.),_ and overall, his entire body is stinging with faded red. It's not the best, but he's definitely fought with worse.

With his assessment finished, Allen shifts so that he's balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to move at any second. He cocks his head, listening, but upon hearing nothing but the wind whistling through the abandoned town, Allen turns his attention to other methods.

It takes a moment; it always does, when searching out for certain emotions, certain people. He's had years of practice doing so. After all, Master always tended to abandon him when they were in the red light district or when he'd found a woman he fancied. It had taken time but eventually, he'd gotten the hang of sensing his Master's distinct scarlet-orange-gold.

_(Looking back on it, Allen can see the patterns of one of his Master's many disguised training exercises. He doesn't know whether to scowl in red-pink exasperation or allow the growing sunshine yellow in his aura to take over.)_

In Mater, while it is across a farther distance, there aren't many auras to sense, so he quickly latches onto the pure white of the living doll’s Innocence. He runs.

Twisting between the buildings of Mater, Allen runs towards the pure white, focusing on his goal. What he most definitely isn't expecting, however, is for Timcanpy to suddenly tunnel out of the ground and knock him off course. He falls to the ground _(very ungracefully, and seriously, Tim, what the hell?)_ , and suddenly he has a face full of frantic golem.

“Tim!” Allen gasps out in alarm, colors sharpened and on high alert. “What is it?”

Because something is wrong. With their close proximity, Allen can see the unnatural sharpness to Tim's magenta aura, the alarm in his movements.

And that can only mean…

“Where are they?”

Tim flies down towards the ground, and suddenly, Allen can _feel_ . Kanda's red _(scarlet red)_ and Toma's yellow-grey _(too grey, too formal, he'll have to get him to open up more)_ and Mugen’s pure white and raging red heading straight for Toma...

Allen doesn't think.

Activating his Innocence, Allen plunges his arm straight through the earth until it's up to his shoulder and even further still until he feels it. Munsell yellow spreads up his arm, but he can feel the yellow-grey, faded and shrouded in faded red and a dingy yellow but still _alive._

Deactivating his Innocence, Allen drops down through the newly made hole, right in front of his copy, crippled on the ground.

But shit, wait, that's not the Akuma. Allen can sense the yellow-grey from the copy, and the only black in its aura is the lingering possibility of death. Across from him, Allen can see Kanda glaring at him, furious and scarlet with a vaguely muddled aura, and then he sees Toma. But then… _fuck._

Just as Kanda opens his mouth _(probably to yell at him, the dick)_ , Allen beats him to it.

“Kanda, get down!”

It's a miracle that he listens, but maybe it isn't. Allen can see the exact moment that Kanda's instincts take over _(a flash of indigo, uncannily familiar to him after all these years)_ , and the man ducks down just as Allen swings his arm in a wide arch, slamming the Toma look-alike into the wall.

“What the hell, Beansprout?” Kanda yells at him, looking back to Toma only to see…

“Looks like I've been caught!” the Akuma stands in the place of where Toma once was, the skin he'd worn as a disguise laying crumpled and useless on the ground. The smile on his face is a strange mix of black and yellow-orange, sending a chill down Allen's spine. “But that won't stop me!”

Before either of them can react, the Akuma aims for Kanda, who remains crouched low to the ground. Kanda moves, making to dodge, but in that moment, Allen can see how his muddled aura affects his movements. Kanda is slammed into the wall back first, his head thrown back violently into the wall with such force that he's immediately rendered unconscious.

Allen acts on instinct, indigo flashing through his aura, as if in response to Kanda's.

He lashes out with his reactivated Innocence, cursed eye coming to life in response to his emotions and close proximity to the Akuma. He tears it cleans in half before immediately making a dash for Kanda then Toma, lugging them both over his shoulders. He's down the hall and out of sight before the Akuma has a chance to reorient itself.

He runs through the maze without any idea of where he's going _(his sense of direction is still bloody awful)_ for a few minutes. It's just enough time to put a little distance between them and the Akuma.

Slowing down, Allen can feel the faded red reverberating from his chest, his ribs and lungs both exhausted and sore. He walks anyways, one comrade slung over each shoulder, with only one thing to guide him: the Innocence's pure white and another aura beside it, too weak for him to read from this distance. Something about that feels… wrong. Allen pushes further, harder.

“Master Walker,” he hears a soft voice near his ear and immediately recognizes it as Toma's. “Please leave me behind. You and Master Kanda are both already injured.”

Allen lets out a sigh, releasing some of the red-pink he can feel surrounding him.

“Still as formal as before even on the brink of death,” Allen murmurs to himself, smiling despite himself. Judging by the sharpening of Toma's aura, he still heard him despite the softness of his voice.

Allen sighs once more, feeling a heaviness unrelated to the weight of two limp bodies fall on his shoulders.

“I won't leave you behind, Toma,” Allen smiles, more yellow than grey, even if Toma can't see him. “I still want to get past that politeness of yours.”

Not that he's one to talk, but his hypocrisy doesn't make the statement any less true.

He continues making his way towards the Innocence. They're closer now, and he can feel the urgency sharpening his senses and making him more aware to his surroundings. Timcanpy is flying near his shoulder, and the Akuma is still behind them, lost in the maze no doubt.

They'll get there before him. Allen has to believe that.

Of course, that's when the singing starts. It's beautiful, and an instantaneous wave of _pure white drowning blue too little orange_ makes him stumble. The blue _(drowning overwhelming he can't swim in this he can't he can't breathe)_ nearly overtakes him, and Allen can feel the blue well up in his eyes before he focuses past it to the orange, the trace amounts of orange clinging to the song.

But… that can't be right. After all, he could feel the presence of another person with the Innocence, weak but there. He can feel the strength of mere traces of orange in the city, but he hadn't sensed that in the Innocence. At least, not near the surface.

So why was he sensing it now...

It hits him suddenly, and despite the heaviness on his shoulders, there is another weight much worse that he can't stand to bear.

A flash of yellow-green, of blinding white and dingy yellow.

The growing, drowning blue and traces of orange that lingered with Mater came from the doll itself, and if the orange is back, then that means…

The other person…

They were shrouded in black.

He runs.

He follows the singing and the pure pure white because if he's right then the Ghost of Mater will be in no state to run.

They won't be willing to leave the other person.

And worst of all, if he's noticed the singing then the Akuma certainly has.

Because while the singing will help guide him to that pure, bright white, the singing is all the Akuma needs to find them.

It's a race, and he can't lose.

He runs faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. So Merry belated Christmas and Happy Holidays!! I honestly meant to get this up on Christmas Eve, but I didn't, so I'm really sorry about that! I tried to make it a bit longer than usual to make up for it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and again, I'm sorry if it's a little confusing. Some parts may take a bit of rereading to understand (especially that last part), and if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask! 
> 
> Anyways, here are the colors, you guys:  
> Red - anger, malice, irritation  
> Black tinted red-orange/ Red-orange-black - bloodlust or other dark desires  
> (Blinding) white - blinding pain  
> Magenta - spiritual  
> Faded red - sore pain  
> Dark purple - gloom, sadness  
> Drowning blue - deep, overwhelming sadness  
> Black - evil, death  
> Dingy/munsell yellow - intense pain, revolting  
> Scarlet - more intense version of red  
> Yellow-orange - amusement  
> Dark blue - intelligence  
> Deep purple - arrogance  
> Charcoal grey - strength, mystery  
> Scarlet-orange-gold - Cross’ aura, passion, desire, anger, extravagance, courage  
> Pure white - Innocence, purity  
> Yellow - hope  
> Grass green - soothing, relief  
> Dull grey - uncertainty  
> Yellow-grey - polite  
> Rich blue - concern  
> Dark orange - deceit  
> Red-pink - fond exasperation  
> Sunshine yellow - happiness  
> Indigo - intuition  
> Too little orange - loneliness  
> Yellow-green - sickness
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.
> 
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.
> 
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If anyone noticed, Allen's making a little bit of progress in unraveling Kanda's colors (he's not all anger and hatred, and we know it, but Allen doesn't yet).
> 
> I realized rather quickly that I didn't have an actual color for concern or worry, so that was kind of hard having to figure out a color for that. Blue tends to be a very sincere color, so I figured rich blue would fit lol.
> 
> Anyways, I'll see you guys next week! Hopefully, I'll be back on schedule then! Thank you for reading!! Lots of love ＼(^o^)／


	8. Chapter 8

Rounding yet another corner of Mater’s underground maze, Allen nearly collapses with the sudden onslaught of grass green that floods his aura. There’s an opening in the maze, great and overarching in a way that hints to its significance. Allen knows he’s found it.

There’s still time. At least, he thinks there is. 

The Akuma appears to be lost in the maze, if its growing red is anything to go by. Allen can feel the blue-purple-black flitting around restlessly, almost panicked. Before, tremors had spasmed through the earth as Allen walked. He’s pretty sure the Akuma had just been tearing through walls and pillars in its attempts at finding them, but after one particularly powerful shake, the tremors had stopped altogether. The ceilings probably started collapsing on top of it, if Allen were to guess. Probably a good thing that the Akuma stopped then.

Shaking himself, Allen refocuses on the task at hand: finding and securing the Innocence.

_ (He remembers a song, full of deep, drowning blue and small traces of orange. He remembers first stepping foot in Mater and knowing, immediately, that this was going to be hard. It’s not going to be hard to retrieve the Innocence and retreat safely, quickly. No, it's going to be impossible.) _

Reaching the entrance of what looks to be a large, underground cavern, Allen catches a soft conversation between a pure white-blue-orange aura and another aura. He pauses, focusing on the human’s aura even as he listens into the conversation.

_ (Dark orange, shameful and repulsive, invades his aura before he can try to push it back. It’s not deceitful to eavesdrop. It’s  _ not _. It never hurts to have more information. Something like that can save lives. _

_ And he would know, wouldn’t he?) _

“Why did you lie about being a doll, Guzol?” a soft voice whispers, tinted with dull grey and rich blue. The voice sounds like that of a little girl.

_ (Her aura and words are all somewhat distorted to Allen’s ears. Everything about her is completely shrouded in pure pure white, and with a jolt, Allen realizes that this is the Innocence. And her colors are so… pigmented. That’s probably the best word he can decide on. It’s beautiful.) _

Allen sets Toma and Kanda down gently, urging the Finder to be quiet as he gives a small groan of protest. Allen can sympathize with Toma’s sudden spike of faded red _ (It’s not blinding white or munsell yellow nor is he shrouded in black anymore. Thankfully, Toma’s out of immediate danger. For now, anyway.) _ , but right now he needs tact. Unfortunately, he’ll gladly come off as a little rude to get it.

Peeking around the corner, Allen spots one of the cloaked figures from earlier _ (Guzol, she said his name is Guzol) _ , just as he answer the Innocence’s question.

“I am…” the man pauses, emotions rearing up with a faded sort of blue and red  _ (He can see them, though, as they once were. Deep blue and a hurting, resentful crimson.)  _ “An ugly human, Lala. I don't even look human at all, and I couldn't let you be broken by strangers. Please, Lala, let me be the one to break you… with my own two hands.”

Guzol glances up to look at Lala, and Allen catches a glimpse of the man's face. He hadn't been lying about his physical aesthetics, that's for sure. But Allen knows from experience that beauty can't always be based on outward appearance. 

_ (A gorgeous woman in a bar, cigarette in hand with a slim body surrounded by dark green and deep purple. A man shrouded in black with an aura muddled from alcohol wearing the painted, smiling face of a clown. A dog, scrawny and filthy, licking his hand with nothing to offer but a beautiful, loving light pink.) _

Guzol’s aura, sadly, is completely encompassed with a sickly yellow-green, a foreboding black lingering at the edges. But deeper, down to his core, Guzol's colors shine bright with light pink, dowsing out the faded reds and blues and too little orange. Years of happiness and love are reflected in pink and sunshine yellow. 

No, physical appearance has nothing on this rainbow of a man.

Allen watches as Lala leans forward into Guzol's arms, and suddenly, he feels like he's intruding upon a moment meant to be shared between just the two of them. Allen looks away to give them some pointless resemblance of privacy as Lala murmurs, “Yes, Guzol. I am your doll. Now, what can I sing for you next?”

Allen wants to hope that he can maybe, just maybe, leave them be. Regrettably, Guzol doesn't have much time left  _ (the black at the edge of his aura is slowly spreading towards his core) _ , and he can't bring himself to interrupt them. He can just watch out for the Akuma out here, right?

Kanda, apparently, has different plans.

“What the  _ fuck _ …?” He hears the murmur, too loud in the following silence, before he even senses how Kanda's aura is no longer mute with unconsciousness.

He tenses, knowing shushing Kanda would be pointless as he feels the sudden spike of maroon from across the room, coming straight from a certain Innocence powered doll.

Quickly making a decision, Allen steps out from behind the door, muttering a soft “Stay here.” to Kanda and Toma. He feels a spike of red, but quickly ignores it, letting olive green wash through his aura.

“I'm sorry,” is the first thing that leaves his mouth. He holds his hands out placatingly, trying to show that he means the two no harm. 

Lala’s aura is still tinged with maroon, but her aura is also slightly muddled at the sudden apology. In her hands, she holds one of the pillars  _ (and okay, what the fuck?) _ previously used to support the ceiling and ground above them. Allen gulps nervously, feeling his aura sharpen anxiously, before forcing it down.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your conversation,” he continues, smiling with as much olive green as he can manage. “But I did hear what you said, and I want to help.”

He can see the maroon becoming overshadowed by dull grey and knows this is his chance.

“Please,” Allen implores softly, eyes staring straight into Lala’s one in his attempt to reflect his sincerity.

The doll hesitates for one more moment, before blinding yellow overtakes her aura, and she slowly sets the pillar down. Allen smiles  _ (and on the inside, lets out a sigh of relief, thank God) _ .

“Thank you, Lala.”

For a moment, Lala looks surprised at the use of her name before a soft smile overtakes her face, and a mix of sunshine and golden yellow surrounds her. It matches her hair exactly.

\---

They all end up huddled together after a few minutes, laying on the ground. _ (Kanda radiates red like he’s made of the color, but Allen dutifully ignores him.) _ And while he would love to use this time to get to know the two better  _ (This is absolutely amazing. He’s always sensed the emotions huddled around Innocence, always known there was some form of sentience to them, but to actually see one, animated and living, right before him is something he doesn’t want to pass up.) _ , the time really doesn’t call for it. They need to use this time to strategize.

“The Akuma shouldn’t be here for a little while longer,” Allen begins, glancing around for the Akuma’s aura again just to be sure. Luckily, he’s still a ways off.

More than one aura around him becomes dotted with dull grey and small traces of blue, but Allen doesn’t let their disbelief dissuade him.

“How are you certain?” Lala asks cautiously, eye drifting up to Guzol as rich blue is added to her colors.

Allen smiles with just a hint of drowning blue in his smile, grasping desperately for at least a little light blue. He still has to keep his Synesthesia a secret, but surely, he can tell some form of a truth.

“I was cursed to see the souls of Akuma,” he explains, subconsciously lifting his left hand to cover his eye. 

_ (“Mana!” _

_ A skeleton, come to life, orange-yellow-blue encompassed completely in black.  _

_ Just like the day he died.) _

“I’ll know when it’s coming,” Allen reaffirms, bringing himself back to the present with a shake.

Something in Lala  _ (the instincts of the Innocence, perhaps?) _ , shines with drowning blue as well like she would cry  _ (For him, cry for  _ him. _ No one’s ever done that before.) _ if she had the tears to do so. Allen can even see Guzol’s arms tightening around her comfortingly. 

Looking away from Lala for the moment, Guzol looks up uncertainly  _ (flush pink surfaces in his aura, and it strikes Allen that Guzol hasn’t had  _ any _ positive human interaction for _ decades _ ) _ and meets Allen gaze. Then, upon seeing nothing resembling disgust or horror  _ (only understanding) _ in Allen’s expression, grass green replaces the flush pink swiftly.

With more confidence than before, Guzol asks, “Will you allow me to be the one to do it?”

He doesn’t need to elaborate; Allen knows what he’s asking.

“Yes,” he agrees, voice soft. “You will be together until your time comes.”

Guzol smiles appreciatively, and Allen returns the gesture eagerly. That is, until a sudden roar of red beside Allen redirects his attention. And fuck, Allen remembers Kanda wasn’t awake for that part of the conversation.

“Like  _ hell _ we’re waiting for some old man to die before we take the Innocence!” he growls, red strong in each word. “We need to get the Innocence back to Headquarters as soon as possible, not in a couple of years when this old man finally croaks!”

Kanda looks directly into Allen’s eyes, something too quick flashing through his eyes for Allen to identify.

“We can’t grant this wish! Take the heart, so we can protect the Innocence!”

Allen feels red flood his system at the words. They’re insensitive at best, and Allen won’t even say what they are at their worst. But he’ll shove it down for now. This situation needs logic if they’re all to get out of here alive  _ (or resting peacefully, in some cases) _ .

“It won’t be  _ years _ ,” Allen nearly hisses, deep blue overtaking his voice. “Guzol will be gone within a matter of days…” 

Turning to the pair before him, Allen grimaces sympathetically, hyacinth flooding him as he glances between the two. He wishes he could help them more, but he knows this will be their best shot. Looking back at Kanda, he catches the surprise etched across his face  _ (and in the sharpening of his aura) _ , before the man can hide it.

“We can grant this wish...” he murmurs, red-orange racing through him as he feels an onslaught of cream joining his already sharpened colors. “And we can protect the Innocence as well.”

Allen looks directly at Kanda, red-orange unrelenting, and for a moment, Kanda holds his gaze before the red in his aura seems to go somewhat mute, or at least less powerful.

“How?” Kanda asks, traces of blue sneaking back into his aura in a final call for defiance.

Allen smiles, and he knows it’s not the yellow-grey one Kanda has grown used to seeing in the short time they’ve known each other. Perhaps it’s a bit too red, a bit too sharp, but they’re going to win this, and Allen’s never been above fighting dirty.

_ (Master would probably be proud. Allen’s pretty sure he got this smile from him, after all.) _

“I have a plan,” Allen explains simply, turning his gaze so he can include the entire group in his response. “And I’m going to need all of your help to complete it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I'm late again, you guys! I've fallen into the habit again, gosh darn it. Guess I'll have to be trying harder.
> 
> Anyways, before I say anything else, here are the colors:  
> Grass green - soothing, relief  
> Red - irritation, anger, malice  
> Blue-purple-black - represents an Akuma's soul  
> Drowning/Deep blue - deep, overwhelming sadness  
> Dark purple - gloom, frustration  
> Black - evil, death (black that lingers around an aura represents approaching death)  
> Too little/traces of orange - loneliness  
> Pure white - Innocence  
> Dark orange - deceit  
> Dull grey - uncertainty, lack of understanding  
> Rich blue - concern  
> Faded red - sore pain  
> Blinding white - blinding pain  
> Munsell yellow - intense pain  
> Crimson - (a combination of red and purple) anger branching from sadness  
> Dark green - greed  
> Deep purple - arrogance  
> Light pink - tender love  
> Yellow-green - sickness  
> Pink - love  
> Sunshine yellow - happiness  
> Maroon - (a mix of red and brown) anger branching from a need for security/protectiveness  
> Olive green - peace  
> Blinding yellow - enlightenment, often leads to a decision being made  
> Golden yellow - curiosity  
> Too little/traces of blue - suspicion, unreliability, disbelief  
> Light blue - honesty  
> Orange-yellow-blue - Mana’s aura  
> Orange - joy, enthusiasm  
> Flush pink - embarrassment, ashamed  
> Hyacinth - (like the flower) a bit of a combo of blue (drowning blue’s sorrow), purple (dark purple’s frustration), and black (the wrong committed)  
> Red-orange - passion, determination, action  
> Cream - new ideas  
> Yellow-grey - polite
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.
> 
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.
> 
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.
> 
> When colors are faded, that can represent how they are from a long time ago but were so strong or were around for such a long time that they haven't completely vanished from the soul yet.
> 
> So, yeah, I hope you guys enjoyed this one! I think I'll be wrapping this arc up in the next chapter. Lol I think I've already stretched it out a bit too much. I just love all of the characters in this arc so much!
> 
> Oh yeah, and that new color, hyacinth (the color I have in mind is a purple-blue in case anyone was wondering) for regret, is actually one I'm really happy with. I think the explanation works out, and plus, purple hyacinth (the flower) are known to represent regret or sorrow for a wrong that has been committed. I think it fits.
> 
> Anyways, I'll see you guys next week! Happy New Year's, everyone! (≧∇≦)/


	9. Chapter 9

As it happens, they’re barely ready in time. 

Allen can feel the panic sharpening his aura, enough to make his stomach turn with an unsettling amount of dingy yellow-green currently twisting in his guts  _ (It’s similar to Guzol’s, yes, but not the same. His sickness is much more yellow based than Guzol’s) _ .

Stealing a quick glance in the direction of said man, Allen grimaces as he watches the older man and Toma slowly move through their work, both not nearly in the right condition for such tasks but needing to carry them out regardless. The plan depends on it.

A sudden engulfment of black catches Allen’s eye, and oh, _ fuck _ .

“He’s close!” Allen whispers frantically, aura sharpening further. He easily catches everyone’s attention; he  _ is _ the lookout, after all. “Get into your positions. We need to be ready!”

Everyone moves swiftly  _ (as swiftly as you can when you’re on Death’s doorstep, a bitter, Red part of his mind provides cynically) _ , and within moments, they’re ready.

It’s not, in fact, a moment too soon as Allen feels the familiar faded red of his eye activating. 

_ (Some days, Allen swears the thing actually  _ throbs _. Usually on rough weeks, when he hasn’t had a chance to go hunting for Akuma in the area, or when he and Master traveled through lands where they would go without civilization for a few days. The scar, however, a twisted gift from father to son, almost always aches with a long familiar faded red. He’s used to it at this point. _

_ That doesn’t stop it from hurting though.) _

The Akuma isn’t far now, he should be here any…

“Oh my…” he hears a yellow-orange hum behind him, and Allen ducks down below a strike that could’ve decapitated him if he were a second later. “It seems I’ve found the Innocence~!”

The clown’s giggle is yellow-orange and black, dark and twisted. Allen winces _ (“Smile, Allen!”) _ , before focusing back on the task at hand. He’ll play his part. Hopefully everyone else will play theirs’.

“Innocence, Activate!” Allen yells, feeling the comforting flare of pure white-turquoise from his left arm. He smiles, dark orange no longer an uneasy color in his aura for once. Time to put on an act. A dual act, that is.

Allen continues dodging attacks, weaving in between the pillars and bringing up near debilitating plooms of sand. In moments like these, Allen knows he’s lucky to have his Synesthesia aiding him alongside ‘normal’ human sight. He’d surely be dead without it at this point. 

_ (Not that Allen would have any idea what the word normal represents anyway.) _

Continuing to dodge the Akuma’s attacks in an unending sequence, Allen slowly leads the clown to where they need it. They’re so close, almost where they need it, and then… now!

“Lala!” Allen calls out, dodging at a speed faster than he had been showing before and moving sharply to the left, unblocking the Akuma’s sight from what they had been leading it to.

The Akuma’s eyes barely have a moment to widen before it’s struck straight in the face by a pillar, sending it crashing back into the far wall. A startled wail fills the air, and Allen watches as the Akuma takes a moment to slump against the wall. Its aura muddles as something like faded red overtakes it. The Akuma stills, in pain and exhausted for barely a few seconds.

A few seconds is all they need.

“Now, Kanda!” Allen yells. By the responding spark of red in his peripheral, the warning was likely unnecessary  _ (and very much unwanted) _ , but Allen ignores that in favor of finishing their job.

The strike is clean. A neat X through its body. A quick death.

_ (Quicker than he deserved, that bastard.) _

_ (Good to know he hasn’t lost that sense of spite over all these years, bloody hell.) _

It’s a second later that Allen realizes their mistake. It’s a vital one.

Whipping around frantically, Allen spits out, “Behind…!”, before a claw like hand covers his mouth, slamming him back right next to the still smoking form of the Akuma’s decaying skin. In his panic, Allen allows turquoise to overtake his senses for a moment and lets his Innocence unleash in a wide, desperate swing to disengage the Akuma’s iron grip.

It works, and he dashes out beneath the arm and away from the familiar face staring back at him. Somehow, through some sort of luck, he ends up beside Kanda, who sends a quick look  _ (dark blue and overwhelming turquoise) _ his way before refocusing on the Akuma. To his left, Allen can sense Lala stepping forward to stand beside him, pillar still in hand. 

Standing across from them is an exact mirror-image of Allen, a maniacal smirk splitting his face gruesomely. Allen winces; he sincerely hopes he’s never made a face like that. 

_ (Dark orange, a handful of cards in sight with many more slipped up his sleeves. The smell of alcohol in a bar, casino, back alley. Laughter, dark and scarily light blue, erupting from his throat.) _

_ (It was supposed to help him gain better control of his left arm and hand. _

_ It does, but it also does so much  _ more _.) _

_ (Sometimes, he finds that he scares himself just as much as Cosimov did.) _

Shaking himself, Allen tenses as a snigger leaves his double’s lips.

“So you knew I was coming and set up a trap, huh~?” he giggles louder, black-yellow-orange grating and disconcerting. Allen has to fight not to take a step back. “How underhanded you exorcists are! Well, I suppose I’ll just have to play dirty too, won’t I~?”

The Akuma makes to dash towards them, and Allen feels his aura sharpen at the sudden onslaught of dark orange he feels looking at the Akuma’s actions. It’s a feint!

Following the Akuma’s eyes rather than his movements, Allen watches as its gaze lands on something behind them. His eyes widen in realization, and he’s turning around before he can even process what he’s doing.

“No!” he gasps out, lunging towards the small shelter Toma and Guzol had put together using the stone slabs from a few fallen pillars, but he already knows he’s too late. 

He runs anyways, heart in his throat, as he watches the Akuma race ahead of him, claws outstretched to the two even as Toma lifts his talisman to project a protective barrier against it. It won’t hold for long, barely a second. He’ll watch them both die by the hands of this deranged form of himself, watch as their auras succumb to the black before vanishing all together. 

_ (He still hasn’t seen past Toma’s yellow-grey yet. Guzol won’t fall asleep for the last time to Lala’s lullaby. Allen will have to watch, again, as someone dies in his stead. A sacrifice that shouldn’t have been made for an undeserving street rat with absolutely nothing left as  _ the only light in his life is drowned in black right in front of him _.) _

He won’t let that happen.

The talisman holds for a second, one precious second, and that’s all he needs.

With a cry _ (scarlet and drowning blue and old scars that throb with faded red) _ , Allen pushes harder than he ever has before, calls out to the pure white-turquoise in his arm, pleads for the first time since it activated to give him  _ more _ .

_ (He remembers the first time he had destroyed an Akuma. _

_ He had destroyed Mana. _

_ His Innocence had sparked alive, muted colors now brilliant and strong and  _ loving _. _

_ He remembers a flash of golden yellow, as innocent as it was wise, appearing before him and staying, as if asking, “What do you want? How can I help? Why do you need me?” _

_ And he’d known then as he knows now what he needs it for. _

_ “Help me save him.”  _

_ Mana had disappeared, after that, with a bright, pure white instead of the black from before. _

_ These two won’t disappear at all. _

_ Not on his watch.) _

His arm morphs and twists beneath him, responding eagerly to his emotions  _ (his colors) _ and molding to his will. Behind him, he feels the abrupt sharpening of his comrades’ auras as they rush towards the Akuma as well. He’d be surprised too if he had time to think about it.

Allen lets indigo and turquoise flood through him, engulfing him, as he fires his newly formed Innocence without mercy. A volley of piercing beams shoot straight for the Akuma. None of them miss their mark.

The Akuma stops as if shocked, and Allen doesn’t hesitate.

It’s more indigo than anything resembling actual thought that drives him forward now, allowing his Innocence to morph once more as he slices clean through the Akuma’s hide, revealing the Akuma’s true skin.

It panics, jumping back as if to gain ground and reorient itself, but Allen won’t give it that chance.

“Kanda!” he calls again, changing his Innocence’s form one more time as he repeats the words he’d uttered before.

_ (There is no spark of red this time, only a green tinged white, and honestly, it’s probably the calmest Allen has ever seen Kanda. Allen feels the same colors engulf him too.) _

They both fire, and this time, both of them hit their true target.

The Akuma disappears, pure white engulfing it, and Allen watches in a daze  _ (vaguely realizing he’s collapsed, depleted, to the ground) _ as the chains imprisoning the soul are shattered. The soul smiles in thanks, eyes drowning blue but also grass green, before vanishing as well.

Allen smiles back even if the soul can no longer see it, mumbling a soft farewell.

It isn’t until he looks up again that he realizes that Toma is in front of him now, eyes crinkled as a strange combination of rich blue and grass green wash over him. The yellow-grey is nowhere in sight. Allen gives a soft smile and tunes back into the world of the living.

_ (For now, Allen’s spent enough time with the dead, he thinks.) _

“...ster Walker! Master Walker!” Toma speaks softly but urgently, aura beginning to sharpen in panic.

“I’m alright, Toma,” he whispers, glancing around him. Lala and Guzol are sitting together, hugging each other _ (a pure, light pink he hasn’t seen since…) _ but with both of their gazes on him as grass green and rich blue mingle between their colors as well. Kanda stands a small ways away, shaky but otherwise unharmed with his gaze diverted from them all. 

_ (Mugen lays deactivated in his hands, shining with a muted sense of gold and overwhelming orange, and for a split second, Allen’s thoughts wander to what it had asked Kanda, when and where and why, before he shakes himself. It’s none of his business anyway.) _

“No offense, Master Walker, but I believe your idea of one’s proper well-being is somewhat skewed from most people’s.” Toma mumbles, a faint yellow-grey overtaking his tone even as a stronger sense of yellow-orange dances in his aura. 

Allen gives a small huff in response. Toma’s yellow-orange is contagious.

“I suppose you’re not wrong…” he mumbles, feeling a bit chastised despite himself.

Toma lets out a slightly more red breath, before bringing up his hands and forcefully pushing Allen to the ground. It’s honestly a little embarrassing how little effort it actually takes.

“Get some rest, Master Walker,” Toma advises, colors shining bright with, oddly enough, red-pink. “We’ll take it from here.”

It’s an enticing offer, Allen has to admit. 

Apparently his body agrees because the next thing he knows, Allen falls into the oblivion of sleep, the voices of his comrades a comforting turquoise around him.

\---

_ Allen has found, throughout the years, that he almost always dreams without color, the exception curiously being the few months after Mana’s death when he’d been completely deprived of any proper human interaction. It was almost as if his brain was making up for the lack of color in the waking world (or perhaps it was his grief overwhelming him at the time, who knows). _

_ The near unchanging quality of Cross’ aura (besides a growing red at having to take care of an unresponsive, practically comatose child) through that time may have contributed to the newfound color in his dreams as well. _

_ Despite those times, however, Allen has never dreamed with much color. It’s almost as if his brain is taking a break from all of the colors it constantly takes in and processes. _

_ There are, of course, continued exceptions to his black and white dreams. _

_ Tonight, he dreams of turquoise, without the usual, accompanying pure white, and rich blue without the overhanging barrier of too much blue that Cross tries to mask his with. _

_ It’s nice. _

_ He wishes he could dream like this forever. _

\---

_ He hears voices as he drifts in some form of half-sleep. Soft murmurs of conversations not meant for his ears. _

_ “Master Kanda, please calm down. You’ll wake Master Walker.” _

_ “As if I care about that stupid Beansprout! He can die for all I care!” _

_ “Don’t speak about him that way! He saved all of our lives today and deserves to rest!” _

_ “Fuck that! I still don’t know why we don’t just take your heart and go!” _

_ “Please, sir. He promised we could stay together…” _

_ “I don’t fucking care what that idiot promised! I…!” _

_ He squirms in discomfort, sickening amounts of red washing over him when he’s unprepared. As if in response to his shifting, the voices immediately silence, the red muted and replaced with flush pink and rich blue. _

_ “Fine,” comes a much less red voice, gruff but resigned. _

_ The red all but disappears from there, except for a soft thrumming of it in the corner of his senses, but it’s quickly put out of his mind as Allen is pulled back into his dreams. _

\---

Waking up is certainly strange, on the ground without his Master’s familiar scarlet-orange-gold aura. He lays there, unsure of exactly where he is, until his memories rush back to him and Allen gasps as his aura sharpens. His ears finally pick up on the soft sound not too far from him: singing.

Sitting up, Allen looks over to where he can now see Lala and Guzol together on the ground, Lala sat seiza style as Guzol lays comfortably with his head in her lap.

“She’s been singing for hours,” Toma says from beside him. Allen likely would’ve startled if not for the fact that he’d already sensed the man’s approach. Allen turns his gaze away from the pair to give the Finder his attention, curious.

“Where is Kanda?” 

He can’t sense the man nearby, so he must be farther away.

“Master Kanda is currently on patrol,” Toma answers dutifully, looking back at Allen steadily. “It’s been decided that we will wait until after Guzol has passed to take the Innocence.”

Allen smiles gratefully, a conversation he blearily remembers flashing through his mind, before he brings himself together and stands. He’s very proud of himself when he only stumbles a little.

“I’ll go and patrol as well then,” Allen announces, glancing back at Toma before rich blue can sprout in his colors again. “I’ll know if an Akuma is getting close, don’t worry.”

He winks his left eye, tapping at his curse almost playfully.

It’s worth the embarrassing gesture when Toma’s eyes crinkle and the oncoming rich blue is washed away by grass green and yellow-orange.

“Be careful, Master Walker,” he murmurs softly, gaze unwavering.

Allen smiles, feeling sunshine yellow dance around him even as a faint, bright orange sneaks its way into his smile.

“Of course.”

\---

As he’s walking away, Allen glances back, catching a glimpse of a folded coat where he had previously been lying. It’d likely been used as some sort of makeshift pillow for him.

A sense of bright orange  _ (alongside a sense of red-pink) _ , stronger than before, floods Allen’s aura upon seeing that the coat is an exorcist’s and certainly not his own. 

He smiles wider before continuing his walk to the surface.

\---

(Needless to say, Allen thoroughly teased Kanda about it later, earning a thrilling flush pink in response even if the effect was only clear in the man’s aura.

He also lost a few hairs via Mugen, but it was totally worth it.)

-

(He thanked him sincerely later, eyes serious and full of light blue.)

-

(Also, Allen may have gotten lost on his way to patrol multiple times in the next couple of days, but no one needs to know that but him. 

It gets better once Timcanpy begins to follow him around again anyway.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, that's pretty much the end of this arc! I'm actually pretty proud of this chapter. I feel like I really put my own twist on things (??), hopefully lol.  
> Anyways, before I go any further, here are the colors for this chapter:  
> Dingy yellow-green - a physical sensation of an upset stomach. It’s more yellow than yellow-green, meaning that it is spurred more from a sense of caution and nerves than from literal illness  
> Yellow-green - sickness  
> Black - evil, death  
> Red - anger, malice, irritation  
> Faded red - sore pain  
> Yellow-orange - amusement  
> Pure white - Innocence, purity  
> Turquoise - love, loyalty, partnership, friendship  
> Dark orange - deceit  
> Dark blue and overwhelming turquoise - too much turquoise is analytical/letting logic guide decision making, dark blue is intelligence, combine to make analytical, can be searching, diagnostic  
> Light blue - honest, real  
> Yellow-grey - politeness  
> Scarlet - more intense version of red  
> Drowning blue - deep, overwhelming sadness  
> Golden yellow - curiosity  
> Indigo - intuition, instinct  
> Green tinged white - understanding  
> Grass green - relief  
> Rich blue - concern, worry  
> Pure, light pink - unwavering and tender love  
> Gold and overwhelming orange - a sense of satisfaction and pride, combining gold’s passion and compassion with the pride created from too much orange  
> Red-pink - exasperated fondness  
> Too much blue - uncaring, cold, self-centered  
> Flush pink - shame  
> Sunshine yellow - happiness  
> Bright orange - mischief
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.
> 
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.
> 
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.
> 
> When colors are faded, that can represent how they are from a long time ago but were so strong or were around for such a long time that they haven't completely vanished from the soul yet.
> 
> So yeah, I'm sorry if the colors got confusing in this chapter. I added a few new ones this time around.
> 
> Also, color meanings are frickin hard, guys! (Honestly, I still love it, and it's kinda my fault for choosing to write from the point of view of a character with Synesthesia lol.) Emotions like satisfaction or, like, analytical emotions don't exactly come with an exact color, so I have to play around a bit. It is super fun though, even if a bit frustrating at times.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Again, sorry for being a bit late. I finished it yesterday, but since I'm kinda my own editor, I didn't have the time to go back through it until today. Hopefully, the slightly longer chapter will make up for it!
> 
> Let me know if you have any questions! I promise that I would love to answer them and am honestly like the least intimidating person ever to talk to lol (thanks social ineptitude). See you guys next week! Lots of love! <3<3<3


	10. Chapter 10

It’s three days later that Allen hears their story, and despite the positive aftermath of the fight, he can’t say he doesn’t wish that he’d heard it sooner.

The story of Mater and its abandon, of Lala and her traces of orange, of Guzol and his flush pink. It’s familiar in a way that burns scarlet, not yet faded as Lala’s is, and overwhelms him with the deep, drowning blue and traces of orange that will always cling to his colors no matter how many people he’s surrounded by.

Needless to say, the reminder stings. And yet, he feels it brings him to a closer understanding, knowing why Mater and its two inhabitants bear the colors of their souls like battle scars. They’ve fought hard to be where they are. 

It’s so familiar that the drowning blue overwhelms him, and before he can try to stop them, the blue flows down his cheeks in twin streaks like the watercolor paints he remembers seeing once during his travels.

Beside him, Lala and Guzol both shine with the same colors, though faded with time, and smile fragmented smiles with cracks cemented with sunshine yellow and light pink.

Allen hopes they can feel the green tinged white in his aura because he doesn’t think he can speak around the tears on his cheeks and the lump in his throat.

-

It’s only another four days, long with most of the time filled with Lala’s lullaby, when Guzol takes his final breath.

Allen can immediately tell that the old man’s time has come. The yellow-green has nearly completely overridden all other colors in Guzol’s aura  _ (a small spark of light pink, unbreakable and eternal, shines unblemished in his core)  _ over the past few days, and now, even the yellow-green has become overshadowed by the black in Guzol’s aura. 

Today’s the day, and there’s nothing Allen can do but give them some privacy.

-

When he goes up to leave, Allen casts a smile back at the pair. With it being morning, Lala is only just about to begin singing again after a small break to talk to Guzol in soft tones. Somehow sensing his gaze, the doll of Mater catches his eye as he makes to leave, and something must show in them because suddenly, her eye shines bright with drowning blue as if she’d cry if she were only capable of doing so.

He needs to say something. He never got the chance to last time  _ (The last few times, actually, but who’s counting? Certainly not him, he’s too busy drowning.) _ , and he doubts such a chance will present itself again.

“Thank you,” he says, quietly, because false sympathies will always be a part of him  _ (Is it really him though? A street brat born in pale blue and munsell yellow in the dark corners of an alley with only the thoughts of dying with turquoise in his eyes as a comfort. No, false sympathies were always Mana’s area of expertise. Although, at this point, is there really much of a difference?) _ , but neither of Mater’s occupants need or deserve such lies right now.

Lala’s colors muddle with dull grey before brightening, a halo of blinding yellow mingling with the golden hue of her hair. She nods. 

It’s all they need, between people who are practically looking into a mirror instead of another person’s face.

He still feels the sting of yellow-green and the shadows of black at his heels as he walks to the surface alongside Toma.

-

It’s sad, really, how he still avoids death.

How he watches for it everyday, through a curse given by the dead  _ (his dead) _ , and yet, he still can’t stand to watch someone’s aura fade completely to black, watch as everything turns black and white like in his dreams, and despair over the loss of something that’s so individually unique among a world of billions, no matter how ugly or how beautiful.

Guzol is beautiful in every way that matters, and Allen can’t even bring himself to watch such an honorable man die.

The color sits uncomfortably in his stomach, almost like chartreuse, but that has to do with nerves, and he’s not nervous, he’s only…

Pathetic.

The word rings true with the overwhelming amount of yellow clinging to him like a rash across his entire being.

Despite his resolve, the yellow clings to him just as strongly as the accompanying green-yellow, blatant and unyielding in its intensity.

He continues to wallow to himself, allowing the cycles of churning yellow and green to overtake his thoughts, before a voice, gruff and brimming with red, interrupts his thoughts.

“If it’s that painful, don’t listen,” Kanda nearly snarls at him, red making the words sharp and accusatory. “It’s your own damn fault for not taking the Innocence and just leaving.”

Allen raises his head, broken out of the shameful yellow in his colors, and retorts just as sharply, “I won’t regret letting Lala and Guzol have their final moments together. I’d  _ never _ regret that!”

The red in his voice is backed by the glare he directs at Kanda, who only seems to grow more red at the expression. Dull grey tinges his aura, and that too is surrounded in red.

“We’re destroyers, not saviors!” Kanda hisses at him, voice pitched low even with the red dripping like blood from his words.

Allen pauses, gut twisting with too much yellow and green-yellow again.

“I know that…” he whispers harshly, barely loud enough for Kanda to hear.

“Then what the hell is your problem?” the other man growls at him. Kanda is clearly lashing out, probably not appreciating his lack of understanding when it comes to Allen, but Allen’s not in the mood to be gentle if he’s going to provide an answer.

“Guzol’s going to  _ die _ today!” Allen yells back, voice cracking with the colors swarming in it. “And I can’t just sit here and feel  _ nothing  _ like you seem to be able to! Maybe there’s more to you underneath all of the anger you hide behind, but if you’re capable of ignoring something that’s right in front of you with the excuse of a greater good, then maybe there isn’t! How are we supposed to save the world if we can’t even save-”

Allen breaks off, gasping as his colors bound out of his control, scarlet and dark purple and drowning blue and too much yellow and traces of orange and black so much black clinging to him like he’s the bringer of Death himself, like everyone he cares for and loves and treasures will  _ die _ not matter  _ what he does _ .

Tears are flowing down his cheeks again, and flush pink and green-yellow shove themselves to the surface of the chaos in his aura.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after the silence has stretched on uncomfortably. For the first time in what must have been awhile, Allen actively searches for the colors of his comrades, easily pinpointing Toma’s comforting yellow-grey  _ (aura sharpened a bit with alarm at the sudden shouting, no doubt)  _ before coming across Kanda’s usual red and… another color he can easily pinpoint: blinding yellow.

It seems Kanda’s come to some sort of decision then.

Allen pushes on anyway. 

“I shouldn’t have placed blame on you, I’m really so-”

“Don’t you dare spout that bullshit after that fucking display,” Kanda growls, but his voice isn’t as red as before. “I don’t want to hear whatever lies you’re going to say. You obviously don’t like me, and I honestly don’t give a shit. But when you’re so fucking obvious about living as a fucking fake, it’s really fucking annoying! If you’re going to talk then say what you fucking mean, Beansprout!”

Allen’s eye twitches. 

“Alright, then,” he agrees pleasantly, smile as hostile as he can make it. “I think you’re an asshole.”

The responding bloom of yellow-orange in Kanda’s aura is surprisingly reflected on his face in the form of a smirk. Allen still can’t get over the fact that this guy isn’t a complete sociopath that only feels red and scarlet.

Kanda opens his mouth to reply ( _ probably something snarky, the bloody bastard) _ when suddenly, everything goes silent. And that’s definitely not right because…

Allen jolts, looking behind him where the entrance to the underground ruins are, searching and searching trying to find something yellow-green light pink sunshine yellow  _ anything _ .

He finds nothing but black, painfully colorless in the glow of pure white lying unmoving beside it.

Allen stares, eyes watering again  _ (What is this, the fourth fucking time that day?) _ , before turning back to the others, seeing painful green tinged white dancing across their auras.

“He’s gone,” Allen whispers softly, a broken, dark purple smile making its way to his face. “Guzol’s gone.”

-

Allen’s the first one to reach them, having run full speed, twisting and turning through the maze and following the pure white of Lala’s Innocence until he finds the archway again.

He slowly walks towards the pair, almost afraid to break something  _ (and what that something is, he doesn’t know) _ . When he reaches them, his heart nearly shatters with the corresponding deep blue and grass green.

Overtop of Guzol’s prone form is Lala, hunched and broken with dull eyes and a true puppet’s smile, merely a husk of the lively doll Allen has grown fond of. Before her lies Guzol, eyes closed and body unmoving, unbreathing, as black continues to dance around his body even as it slowly fades away, waiting to claim another of Allen’s precious few.

Glancing down, Allen feels another rush of color overwhelm him close to tears.

Resting in Guzol’s hands, cradled protectively in stiffened arms, is the Innocence, Lala’s heart.

Allen falls to his knees beside the doll, lifting shaking hands to grasp the Innocence out of Guzol’s still warm fingers.

A sob escapes his throat, and Allen brings the Innocence closer to his heart, hoping maybe he’ll be able to feel Lala’s rich blue or traces of orange. Instead, he feels a pulse of grass green, reminiscent of his own, and sunshine yellow, a picture of a meadow on a peaceful summer day.

It pulses against him, reassuring him, and suddenly, Allen realizes that despite the change of form, this is still Lala in his hands, trying to tell him something. The colors all wash over him, and Allen knows this is Lala’s response to what he’d said earlier. This is  _ her _ thanks.

_ (Thank you for letting me keep my promise, he can almost hear.) _

“You’re welcome,” he whispers to Lala, hands tightening around her, lying there until he senses the approach of Kanda and Toma behind him.

Turning around, Allen smiles at Kanda, more light blue than he’s smiled for awhile even as deep blue shines through as well.

“Kanda,” he murmurs, glancing at the other to make sure he can hear him. He needs him to hear this. “We may be destroyers first and foremost in this war, but I want to be a destroyer who saves lives.”

Kanda stares at him, aura sharpening in his surprise, before turning away to scoff, red dusting across the beginning of another color, hidden deep down inside the man’s aura.

Allen turns away, holding Lala closer. He’ll learn who Kanda really is someday. 

Just not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late again. I kinda fell asleep Saturday night when I was gonna write this and then Sunday was a bit of a full schedule for me. Excuses, excuses, I know. I'm still sorry though. Maybe I should start saying I'll be updating Sunday or Monday...  
> Anyways, I'll say a bit more after this, but for now, here are the colors for this chapter:  
> ch. 10  
> Traces of orange/Too little orange - loneliness  
> Flush pink - shame  
> Scarlet - intense anger, malice  
> Deep/Drowning blue - deep sadness  
> Sunshine yellow - happiness  
> Light pink - tender love  
> Green tinged white - understanding  
> Yellow-green - sickness  
> Black - death  
> Pale blue - painful cold, freezing  
> Munsell yellow - intense pain, revolting  
> Turquoise - partnership, love, loyalty, calm, turquoise is the color that Allen associates with his Innocence (besides pure white)  
> Dull grey - lack of understanding  
> Blinding yellow - enlightenment  
> Chartreuse - similar to sickness, a feeling of nervousness physically present in the stomach  
> Overwhelming amount/Too much yellow - cowardice  
> Green-yellow - emotional disgust  
> Red - irritation, anger  
> Dark purple - gloom, sadness  
> Yellow-grey - polite  
> Yellow-orange - amusement  
> Pure white - Innocence, purity  
> Grass green - relief  
> Rich blue - concern  
> Light blue - honest
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.
> 
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.
> 
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.
> 
> When colors are faded, that can represent how they are from a long time ago but were so strong or were around for such a long time that they haven't completely vanished from the soul yet.
> 
> Okay, guys, so omg I can't believe I've hit 10 chapters now, I'm literally so proud of myself lol not to sound arrogant in anyway, of course. Also, you know you're really getting into your fanfic about Color-based Synesthesia when you begin to think in terms of colors instead of emotions rip. First time I say I'm feeling sunshine yellow instead of happy I'm gonna cry irl not even kidding
> 
> Anyways though, this brings the Ghost of Mater Arc to a close! I honestly don't think I could have drawn this out any more if I'd tried; I'm sorry if it got boring, guys! But yeah, hopefully I've satisfied we the Lala and Guzol fans who knew they deserved a better ending while still giving Allen the proper character development and change in relationship with Kanda that happened originally (because, ya know, that stuff is kinda important).
> 
> Either way, I hope you guys liked this chapter! OMG, I've hit 20k words, and I'm nearly at 100 kudos, I'm literally so happy, and you're all the best! Thank you so much!
> 
> So yeah, I'll see you guys next week (Sunday or Monday??), and Happy Martin Luther King Day because mixed girl pride right here whoo!
> 
> P.S. changed the summary of the fanfic to something I thought was a bit more well written than the last quote. Okay, that's all, bye lol


	11. Chapter 11

The train ride back to Headquarters is uneventful for the most part. Having discovered the day of their leaving that Kanda wouldn't be joining them on their trip and would instead be heading off to a different mission, Allen found himself filled with an odd mix of grass green  _ (This, he understood just fine. Being away from Kanda's constant, overbearing red would be like a breath of fresh air. The red,  _ his Red _ , would still be there, of course, but Kanda's red wouldn't be around to provoke it anymore. He's found similar effects when leaving more urbanized areas or the brothels his Master and he had frequented (unfortunately). It would definitely be a relief.) _ and the faintest traces of hyacinth.

It's an odd combination to say the least, and Allen doesn't know what to do about it. 

_ (He thinks he may remember a time of seeing this. Of feeling this. Of being shoved out of the way of a wayward carriage. Of not dying and the twisted grass green that had flooded him then. Of the immediate overshadowing of hyacinth afterwards accompanied by the heavy pitch black death he's alone traces of orange why doesn't anything good stay drowning blue dark purple black  _ hyacinth _ ) _

His aura muddles, and dull grey floods his vision as he contemplates the matter.

Toma, who he’s practically had to drag into the cabin with him  _ (claiming loneliness which, to be fair, still lingered in his aura through the small traces of orange he’d picked back up while in Mater) _ , sits across from him as traces of yellow flow through his sharpened aura. 

Allen nearly sighs. The man is too tense.

Guess it’ll be Allen’s job to fix that if he wants  _ any _ comrades  _ (friends) _ in the Order.

_ (He doesn’t acknowledge that this is a distraction, doesn’t tell himself that it’s not. He doesn’t know when he’s lying to himself half the time anyway.) _

“You don’t have to be so uncomfortable,” Allen murmurs softly into the silence, hoping to keep from startling the  _ (probably? It’s not like he’s seen much of his face..) _ older man.

He doesn’t completely succeed going by the sudden tensing of Toma’s shoulders and further sharpening of his aura.

“I apologize, Master Walker, but I hope you can understand that the last few days have been somewhat… stressful, per se,” Toma mumbles back, the barest bits of sarcasm leaking into his voice even as it remains almost painfully yellow-grey.

Allen winces a bit but remains undeterred in befriending this horribly polite man  _ (not that he can say much else for himself) _ . Making a split second decision, Allen swaps to Toma’s side of the cabin in nearly an instant, causing the poor man’s aura to tense once again. Allen really wishes he could stop startling the Finder. 

_ (It probably doesn’t help that he’s so used to being around people either too accustomed to his near bipolarity to really care, are nearly impossible to startle, or just don’t care in general.) _

“You don’t have to be so polite either,” Allen says pointedly, feeling gold and overwhelming orange flood through his aura at the flush pink and yellow-orange that skim through Toma’s colors. Those colors, however, are quickly followed by red-pink, a surprising color though tinged more red than pink.

“You’re one to talk, Master Walker,” Toma retorts.

Allen has the decency to smile sheepishly, expressing his own flush pink as he feels the color rise to his cheeks.

“I suppose I am,” Allen responds softly, looking down at his hands with a smile flushed with traces of yellow. Now this conversation is just turning awkward…

“So let’s change that.”

The words leave his mouth before he really processes them, and he finds he really can’t blame Toma for the widening of his eyes; he can hardly believe himself.  _ (The Finder’s eyes are very expressive, as is his body language. It’s helpful when those are all he can really read off of the man besides his colors.) _

Well, no backing down now.

_ (He’s never really been the type to either way.) _

“If you tell me something about you, I’ll tell you something about me,” Allen reasons, looking to Toma even as his own colors go into a frenzy. He knows himself, and he’s gotten to know Toma these past few days to some extent. They’re both very secretive people. Regardless, he can’t help but find himself rising to the challenge.

“Alright then, Master Walker.”

Apparently, the same can be said for Toma if the more apparent yellow in his yellow-grey is anything to go by.

Allen turns to him, a newfound golden yellow surfacing in his aura even as he promises the man, “Nothing too serious.”

_ (He doesn’t acknowledge that this term is more for his benefit than Toma’s even if he’s pretty sure the man already knows.) _

The Finder nods in confirmation, grass green  _ (and blinding yellow) _ flashing in his eyes, before they muddle a little as he focuses his attention elsewhere.

It takes a minute before the man speaks again.

“I like to play cards,” he says softly, contemplatively. “I learned when I was younger. I didn’t have too many friends, so I played by myself then. I’ve found it’s a good pass time on missions, and sometimes, the Finders I’m working with at the time join in.”

Toma stops, apparently finished with his small tale.

Allen smiles sunshine yellow, encouraging and appreciative of this small gateway to a more personal side of Toma. In turn, Toma’s eyes crinkle, revealing barely there crow’s feet as he returns Allen’s smile. Then, he looks pointedly at Allen, expectant.

Allen’s smile turns yellow-orange as green tinged white streams into his aura.

“I enjoy cards as well, actually,” he begins, quickly elaborating as to make the trade of stories more equivalent. “You see, my arm, the left one, was paralyzed up until I activated my Innocence. That’s when Master Cross took me in to train me. And, of course, since I hadn’t been able to use my arm my entire life, I had to learn proper dexterity somehow. Hence, cards…”

Allen’s excitement tapers off slightly as uncertainty, coming as traces of yellow  _ (why has that been such a common color for him today?) _ flood his colors, making him feel the need to turn away from Toma’s golden yellow gaze.

Out of his peripheral vision he sees the man turn away as well, green tinged white mingling in his aura. They sit in silence for a few more moments, content but still somewhat tense, when Toma seems to decide on what to say.

“It’s seemed to work well,” Toma answers, and Allen’s shoulders almost immediately lose their tension, nearly sagging with grass green. Of course Toma would go the practical route.

“It has,” Allen smiles, looking back at the man beside him.

Toma’s eyes crinkle again, aura leaning towards yellow once more, and for a moment, Allen feels turquoise sneak into his aura. He almost wants to cry at its beauty.

“Master Allen,” Toma interrupts his thoughts, aura sharpened and sounding hesitant, and Allen realizes with a jolt that this is the first time Toma has used his first name. _ (Turquoise floods him again, and this time, he nearly  _ does _ cry.) _ His smile widens nearly involuntarily, and he smiles encouragingly at Toma.

Aura now stable, Toma continues more confidently.

“Master Allen. I hate to inform you of this so suddenly, but I won’t be able to head all the way back to the Order with you. I’ve been called to another mission; something strange is happening in a city in Germany. I apologize for not telling you sooner, but I didn’t receive news of such until yesterday.”

Allen looks at Toma blankly for a moment, expression unreadable as he processes what the Finder just told him. After he’s processed the information, his first reaction is to smile, the muddled light blue and dark orange flooding his aura no doubt making his smile complete and utterly fake. 

But then he looks at Toma, and he sees the unmistakable color of hyacinth in the man’s aura. It’s a shuttering color on the man, and Allen’s smile wavers for a moment, keeping him silent for perhaps a beat too long.

Toma seems to take his silence the wrong way as the man’s aura sharpens a little in panic and grows even heavier with a more pigmented shade of hyacinth.

“I’m sorry that I’ll have to leave, Master Walker…” Toma seems to retreat into himself even as his body language reveals nothing of his inner turmoil. 

Allen realizes that the man thinks he’s ruined whatever  _ (friendship? comradery?)  _ had begun to form between the two of them. Flush pink swarms him, making his hasty reassurance come out jumbled and flustered.

“No, no, Toma! It’s alright! I understand, it’s not like you could do anything about it. You’re needed elsewhere. Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine.”

The man, though partially reassured, still looks doubtful, his aura an odd mix of hyacinth with too much turquoise and dark blue.

Allen decides to pull out the big cards.

“If it’s alright,” he murmurs, looking up from beneath his bangs as a vague sense of dark orange washes over him  _ (It’s for a good cause, he tells himself even as he does his best to completely ignore the color. He’s been pushing back his emotions a lot lately too. Fuck.) _ . “Could you please keep calling me Allen?”

Toma’s eyes widen in surprise, before his aura turns almost completely yellow. It’s a beautiful shade that suits the man, dancing about in his resolute and attentive grey eyes. 

“Of course, Master Allen,” he agrees readily before seeming to steel himself for something. Allen looks at him curiously. “Would you like to play cards until I have to get off at my stop?”

This brings pause to Allen as he feels something dark  _ (bright and dark orange, deep purple, dark green, black tinted red-orange)  _ rise within him in challenge. He quickly squashes it down before Toma can see, but by the look on the man’s face, he certainly saw  _ something _ .

“I believe my left arm is still recovering, unfortunately,” the lie slips from his lips easily. “Would it be okay if we just talked until then?”

Toma shifts as traces of blue crowd his aura, revealing his disbelief to Allen’s lie, but the man nods anyways, and the blue slowly leaves his aura as the two converse for the next couple of hours.

He’d feel bad about lying to the man _ (especially so poorly, Red whispers in his head) _ if he didn’t know fully well that the man truly just dodged a bullet.

-

_ He thinks he may remember the first time he saw a hyacinth flower. It was in Italy, he thinks. A coast town along the peninsula that he can't remember the name of at the moment. (He does, however, remember every single brothel, bar, and black market location where his Master racked up even more debt to his name. Fuck, that’s so messed up.)  _

_ They’d been walking along the road, trying to find an inn, when something out of the corner of his eye had caught his attention. _

_ He’d turned and frozen, eyes wide and breathing turning irregular. At that moment, he couldn’t place why the sight of the flowers had startled him, but he’d still gone over, crouching down to the purple-blue plants. _

_ He’d probably stayed that way for a few minutes, paying no mind as to where his Master had gone or to how easy of a target he was for Akuma in this state. _

_ “Aren’t they pretty?”  _

_ A voice speaks just behind him, and Allen whips around in surprise, broken temporarily from his daze. A young woman leans down to address him, looking at the flowers with a sunshine yellow smile. _

_ When Allen doesn’t answer immediately, she turns her gaze to him briefly, her smile brightening, before turning back to the flowers. _

_ “My grandmother hated hyacinths,” she continues, eyes dancing with light purple and faded blue. “I never understood why. She always said that the purple ones represented ‘sorrow for a wrong committed’. I think she was just expressing her regret for what happened to my grandfather, but that’s just a thought.” _

_ She stands then, eyes still clouded with light purple but clearing quickly as she brushes imaginary dust off of her skirt. _

_ “Well, I suppose I ought to be going,” she says, aura back to being sunshine yellow. “Have a nice day, young man!” _

_ And with that, she’s off, unaware as to the burning turmoil of colors she’s left Allen in. _

_ Regret. _

_ REgrEt. _

_ Regretregretregretregretregretohgodhe’salonenowManapleasedon’tleave… _

_ He wallows for what feels like hours, consumed by drowning blue and dark purple and a twisted twisted grass green and  _ hyacinth _. _

_ - _

_ Allen doesn’t remember, but Master tells him he found him collapsed on the side of the road, tears staining his cheeks and a wild look in his eyes. _

_ He’s not sure if he  _ wants _ to remember. _

_ - _

_ His Innocence’s turquoise-white is a comfort that night. An anchor in a drowning blue storm of hyacinth petals. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm so, so sorry for being absent for so long! And I don't even have a good chapter to make up for it ahhh. A lot of stuff came up, and before I knew it, 3 weeks had gone by and I still hadn't updated. I'm sorry. T-T  
> I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter even if it's practically the fanfic equivalent of a filler  
> \--  
> I'll post the colors and then apologize some more at the bottom:  
> Grass green - relief, soothing  
> Red - irritation, anger  
> Hyacinth - regret  
> Pitch black - especially intense version of black  
> Black - evil, death  
> Traces of orange/Too little orange - loneliness  
> Deep/Drowning blue - overwhelming sadness  
> Dark purple - gloom, sadness  
> Dull grey - uncertainty, lack of understanding  
> Traces of yellow/Too little yellow - insecurity, fear, uncomfortableness  
> Yellow-grey - polite  
>  Gold and overwhelming orange - a sense of satisfaction and pride, combining gold’s passion and compassion with the pride created from too much orange  
> Flush pink - embarrassment  
> Yellow-orange - amusement, entertainment  
> Red-pink - exasperated fondness (more red makes it more exasperated/irritated)  
> (Sunshine) Yellow - happiness  
> Golden yellow - curiosity  
> Blinding yellow - enlightenment, realization   
> Turquoise - friendship, loyalty, comradery  
> Muddled light blue - dishonest  
> Dark orange - manipulative  
> Too much turquoise and dark blue - too much turquoise is analytical/letting logic guide decision making, dark blue is intelligence, combine to make analytical, can be searching, diagnostic  
> Bright orange - mischief  
> Deep purple - arrogance  
> Dark green - greed  
> Black tinted red-orange - dark desires  
> Traces of blue/Too little blue - suspicion  
> Light purple - feminine, nostalgic feelings  
> Faded blue - an old hurt, faded/old feelings of sadness  
> Turquoise-white - default of Allen's Innocence, white for Innocence and purity and turquoise for love, partnership, etc.
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.  
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.  
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.  
> When colors are faded, that can represent how they are from a long time ago but were so strong or were around for such a long time that they haven't completely vanished from the soul yet.  
> More pigmented colors represent more powerfully felt emotions.  
> \--  
> So yeah, I'm seriously so sorry guys! This chapter wasn't the best, especially after such a long hiatus, and probably more than a bit self indulgent with Toma (Seriously, guys, he deserves more screen time than he's given; he puts up with so much stuff, it's not even funny). Also, Allen was kinda OOC, sorry. Let's just call it another sign of his Synesthesia. He's actually trying to make friends lol!
> 
> Oh yeah, and if you remember, I do have Toma say 'Master Allen' in some earlier chapters. Typing error that should be fixed by the time you read this.
> 
> But yeah, anyways, I'm sorry again, guys. I'll be updating next week for sure, so don't worry about that. I'll see you all later! Love you all, and thanks for reading! <3


	12. Chapter 12

Looking up, in that moment, all Allen sees is white, pure and unadulterated. Like Innocence. This white, however, doesn't hum with the familiar sense of emotion, so Allen figures he's just been staring pointlessly at the ceiling for the past couple of minutes.

Great.

He closes his eyes again, expanding his senses to his own body first  _ (his head throbs dully, the familiar faded red pulsing up and down his body)  _ and then outward, feeling the Order  _ (off-white and black as it was before) _ and then another person  _ (a familiar aura of green and light pink) _ . Then it hits him.

Not literally, of course, though the sudden pale blue placed against his forehead shocks him enough into sitting abruptly upright, earning a slightly sharpened aura from Lenalee.

“Aw!” She gasps, more out of surprise than fear. Her aura quickly calms down, however, adjusting back to its default colors. “Well, I see you're awake. I'm glad; everyone was getting worried.”

And it's true, if the rich blue hanging around her aura is anything to go by. Something bright settles inside of Allen’s aura, but he’s too distracted coming up with a response to really see what it is.

“I didn't mean to worry anyone,” Allen mumbles back, scratching at his cheek sheepishly as flush pink invades his aura. Though he can't quite remember… “What happened?”

Lenalee pauses, looking up at him from where she'd been bending to pick up the rag he’d unceremoniously flung across the bed. Oops.

“You don't remember?”

At the shake of his head, she stands back up, rich blue clouding her aura again as her brow furrows with worry.

“Well, I don't remember much of the incident myself. I was unconscious for most of it…” this last sentence, Allen notes, is muttered with particular spite, red-pink  _ (red nearly completely drowning out the pink)  _ practically dripping from the words. “But one of my older brother's Komurin went out of control… again.”

The name  _ (Komurin, seriously?)  _ triggers something in Allen's memories, and suddenly, he remembers  _ (though he kinda wishes he hadn't if he's to be honest) _ .

“That was horrible,” he moans out, placing his face into his hands and letting out a long, pained groan. He hasn't felt this much wine red since, well,  _ Cross _ . 

_ (Considering the main source of the color for the past couple of years, Allen would say the name is pretty fitting.) _

Lenalee lets out a giggle  _ (a  _ giggle _ , an honest to God  _ giggle _ , yellow-orange and all) _ before pushing him, lightly, down into the mattress again, placing the newly wetted cloth onto his forehead. The periwinkle that follows is more expected  _ (and therefore, much nicer)  _ than the pale blue from only a few minutes ago.

“Yeah,” Lenalee agrees readily even as both flush and tender pink invade her aura. Embarrassment… for her brother, perhaps? “Komui can go a little overboard sometimes.”

The words seem somewhat lacking in the face of their current whereabouts in what Allen has come to assume is the infirmary.

_ “Sometimes?”  _ A voice cuts in, just as wine red as Allen currently feels _ (Even more so, probably. Built up over time, perhaps?) _ . “I’d say it’s a  _ little _ more than  _ sometimes _ , Lenalee.”

Allen turns his head sharply  _ (quickly and unfortunately ceasing the periwinkle from soothing his throbbing forehead as he sends the cloth flying again) _ at the sudden onslaught of color coming from the direction of the voice.

Headaches or any sort of head injury always seems to make his Synesthesia more intense for some reason.

_ “Why do  _ I _ have to do carpenter work? I’m the  _ chef _!”  _

_ (Light purple and red-pink. Familiar.) _

_ “We’re short staffed; everyone has to pitch in!” _

_ (An aura and accompanying voice he doesn’t recognize beyond perhaps a vague glance. Too much green accompanied by a warm yellow and dark blue. Science Division, maybe?) _

_ “Well, none of you are getting any breakfast tomorrow!” _

_ (Light purple and yellow-orange. Teasing.) _

_ “Hey, Allen...” _

_ (All shades of orange. So many to see, to look into.) _

“Allen!” 

Allen jolts, aura sharpening in surprise as he sits up again, attention quickly captured by the rich blue to his left.

Beside him is Lenalee, Reever, and a scientist that he doesn’t know by name.

“Aw, sorry, Lenalee!” Allen says, pulling up a smile tinted with flush pink. “I zoned out. What were you saying?”

The rich blue subsides somewhat, quickly replaced by red-pink. 

_ (This red-pink is definitely more pink, more of an amaranth.) _

“Well,” she begins, shooting him a pointed look that doesn’t scare him as much as it was probably meant to when he can still see the amaranth lingering in her aura. “What  _ Johnny _ was saying is that…”

She’s abruptly interrupted by the unknown scientist  _ (he’d bet good money on him being Johnny) _ , who jumps into the conversation at the first opportunity he sees.

_ (His aura shines bright with both light orange and a mild red-orange.) _

“Allen, Allen!” Johnny says excitedly, glasses flashing almost menacingly as bright orange leaks into his cheeky grin. “Your room got destroyed in the fight!”

“What!?” Allen gapes, aura spiking as he stares at Johnny in complete shock.

It seems that, now that the man’s let the news slip, his initially mischievous aura has devolved to peach, green tinged white, and rich blue as he stares at Allen through his thick, reflective glasses.

“Sorry, we’ll get you a new room,” he offers not unkindly, practically leaking light orange and peach. “Maybe we can get it even closer to the cafeteria!”

At this, Allen feels a genuinely sunshine yellow smile spread across his face, appreciative of this kind man despite _ (or because of) _ his smartass side.

“Thank you, Johnny,” Allen says, light blue tinging his words. Feeling satisfied, Allen flops back down onto the bed and stares up at the ceiling. The white ceiling. White…

“The Innocence!” he yelps abruptly, sitting upright and uncaring of the sudden dizziness as horrible, horrible hyacinth floods him for having forgotten Lala in the first place. Before his panic can overtake him completely, however, a pair of hands is brought into his line of sight, a familiar Innocence fragment resting in their grasp.

Lala is in his arms before he even registers moving.

“Oh thank God,” Allen murmurs, grass green flooding him completely as he looks to Lenalee gratefully, smile relieved. “Thank you, Lenalee.”

“No problem, Allen!” Lenalee smiles back, green, tender pink and a little dull grey before a flash of bright yellow enters her aura. “Oh! And welcome home!”

Allen blinks, taken by surprise as a chorus of “welcome home”s greet him from the few people lingering  _ (procrastinating) _ in the medical wing.

Allen feels turquoise  _ (the color from earlier as well, no doubt)  _ flood him again, the color a comfort as it always has been.

“Thank you. I’m home.”

\---

“Welcome back, Allen Walker, Timcanpy,” Hevlaska’s voice, echoing around the chamber with soft lavender and deep indigo, greets them once the lift has ceased its movement. Timcanpy rests atop his head comfortably, close enough for Allen to feel his magenta aura.

“I’m home,” he repeats the words and finds that they still ring with turquoise.

“Komui was rather troublesome last night, wasn’t he?” Hevlaska asks, her tone mostly grey but still tinged with yellow-orange.

“That’s mean, Hev,” Komui pouts, hot, tender, and flush pink lacing his words.

Then Hevlaska’s attention shifts, and her aura grows in both indigo and sharpness with her focus.

“The Innocence,” she instructs pointedly to Allen, and though he can’t see her eyes  _ (does Hevlaska even  _ have  _ eyes?) _ , Allen can still feel her attention on him.

He lifts Lala to be within Hevlaska’s line of sight  _ (or, once again, whatever she uses to see or feel her surroundings) _ , though knowing her ability, perhaps she’d been able to sense the Innocence all along. Maybe he’d ask her some day.

_ (The questions lay on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be asked. How far away do they have to be before you can no longer feel them? Can you feel what they feel? Can you  _ see _ what they feel? The questions are absurd, and there’s always more of them, but he can’t help but want to find someone else who’s… like him.) _

“This is Lala,” he tells her and hopes that she understands, even a little. “Please take care of her.”

He feels Komui’s golden yellow gaze on his back but ignores him as Hevlaska leans down to get a closer look at the shard resting in his palms. Lala hums with pure white, traces of orange, drowning blue, sunshine yellow, and, finally, grass green. The colors tell her story as clear as if she’d been singing it.

“Of course,” is Hevlaska’s patient, tender pink response, her voice softening from its already gentle murmur.

She stoops down a little lower, and then Lala fazes out of her glass heart, drifting towards Hevlaska before shooting above her, glowing pure white. Allen’s _ pretty sure  _ everyone else can see it too. Reaching above Hevlaska’s head, the Innocence shines even brighter, the Exorcist lifting her head and activating her own Innocence. An array of symbols appears beneath the woman, and Allen can make out small slots, some empty and some thrumming with color, all of which include pure white.  _ Innocence. _

Allen watches in fascination as Hevlaska opens her mouth, creating a passage for Lala to join the other pieces of Innocence. Entering the Cube  _ (Allen can recall an extremely vague mention of the Cube from Cross in one of the man’s more drunk moments. He also recalls Hevlaska’s name specifically, so he’s pretty sure he’s right.) _ , Lala shoots into her spot, almost as if she were eager to join her fellow Innocence. Maybe she was.

It’s only at that moment that Allen realizes that Hevlaska had been speaking the entire time, perhaps to Lala? 

Listening more closely, Allen barely makes out the ending of Hevlaska’s speech, soft spoken but still thrumming with color.

“Innocence, sleep inside me… for a little while… until the day you meet your accommodator… and join this war…”

And Allen can only watch as Lala seems to do just that; her colors slowly become more muted even as her pure white grows to match the other Innocence within Hevlaska. He can barely distinguish her from the other Innocence by the end, though he thinks he’ll always be able to sense Lala to some degree.

There is one color he can feel in her, however, that he can now sense in all of the Innocence within Hevlaska. It wasn’t there before, he’s sure of it, and the color truly hits him in that moment.

Brown. Caramel Brown.

_ (Flashes of his first sweet, bought from an old but cared for candy shop, with the leftover money he and Mana had earned that day.  _

_ It had been a special occasion, Mana had said, because this was the first time he’d smiled a real smile at the crowd. Mana had wanted to reward him.  _

_ Back then, he hadn’t known what candy was what, so he’d asked Mana to pick something for him. The man had gladly picked a light brown, square-shaped sweet and handed it to Allen. “Caramel,” he’d called it. “One of my favorites.” _

_ Caramel…  _

_ Allen had looked up at the man he felt was a father to him, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as tears welled up within them from all of the yellow and, oddly enough, caramel brown welling up inside of him. He’d eaten the treat, so sweet and delicious, as Mana had looked down at him, yellow-orange-blue and smiling. _

_ This moment… it felt like  _ home _.) _

_ Lala  _ feels like she’s home.

“Welcome home,” he whispers, softly enough that no one else can hear him, as caramel flows through his colors for the first time in what feels like forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys... I'm back...  
> Idek what my schedule is anymore, I'm sorry I haven't been sticking with the times I've been saying I'll update. School's been weird, work's been weird, just ugh, I'll stop making excuses now. Point is, I hope you like this chapter 'cause I really like how this one turned out, and I'm sorry for being late again  
> Colors:  
> Faded red - sore pain  
> Off-white/Not white - appears pure but isn't  
> Black - mystery, authority  
> Green - soothing, harmony, balances out red  
> Light pink - tender love  
> Pale blue - physical sensation of something being too cold  
> Rich blue - worry, concern   
> Flush pink - embarrassment, shame  
> Red-pink - fond exasperation  
> Red-pink with more red/Wine Red - exasperation to the point of annoyance or anger  
> Yellow-orange - amusement  
> Periwinkle - physical sensation of a pleasant coolness  
> Light purple - feminine  
> Too much green - placid, lazy, slow  
> Warm yellow - warm, happiness, kindness  
> Dark blue - intelligent  
> Orange - The color orange has varied meanings, depending on the shade. In this person’s case, most of them are positive.  
> Red-pink with more pink/amaranth - fondness, a little exasperated  
> Light orange/peach - friendly, soothing  
> Red-orange - passion, aggression, action  
> Bright orange - mischief  
> Green tinged white - understanding  
> Sunshine yellow - happiness  
> Light blue - honesty  
> Hyacinth - regret  
> Grass green - relief  
> Dull grey - lack of understanding  
> Bright yellow - enlightenment, sudden realization  
> Turquoise - friendship, loyalty, comradery  
> Soft lavender - a combination of light purple and light pink  
> Light purple - feminine energy  
> Deep Indigo - extremely intuitive  
> Magenta - spiritual  
> Grey - neutral, somewhat apathetic  
> Hot pink - playfulness  
> Golden yellow - curious  
> Pure white - Innocence, purity  
> Traces of orange - loneliness  
> Drowning blue - overwhelming sadness  
> Caramel brown - home  
> Yellow-orange-blue - Mana's default aura
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.  
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.  
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.  
> When colors are faded, that can represent how they are from a long time ago but were so strong or were around for such a long time that they haven't completely vanished from the soul yet.  
> More mild colors aren't as intense or felt as strongly. This can be used to mean that usually very powerful colors are still felt but not as forcefully.  
> More pigmented colors represent more powerfully felt emotions.  
> (rip this list is getting really long)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I added a lot of new colors this time, so I'm sorry if it was confusing. I really love caramel brown and amaranth ("Amaranth" derives from Greek (amárantos), "unfading", with the Greek word for "flower", (ánthos), so I thought it was fitting. lol thanks wikipedia), but it took me a bit to settle on wine red. I do like the context of it though, so I think I'll be keeping it.  
> Alright, enough of my ramblings. I'm really tired and need sleep. Too much stuff to do tomorrow ahh. And... I'm still rambling, sorry. I'll go now! See you guys next chapter! (Which will hopefully come out next week. If not, it'll be the week after. Love you guys! Bye!)


	13. Chapter 13

The Rewinding Town, as they seem to be calling it, is apparently surrounded by a giant barrier of Innocence. Great.

The pure white of the Innocence blocks everything from outside of the town, truly barricading the people from any contact with the outside world. Unfortunately, Allen can’t really tell if it’s just him able to see it or if there is a physical barrier to be seen by the others as well.

“None of us have been able to get into the town so far, Miss Lee, Master Allen,” Toma was saying, moving closer to the Innocence and passing through it, thankfully unharmed. A moment later, however, the man is back. “Whether through normal methods or more… conventional ones.”

Allen feels Lenalee’s aura sharpen as he himself blinks in mild surprise.

He smiles, catching onto the hesitation in Toma’s words quickly as bright orange bleeds into his aura.

“Conventional methods?” Allen asks sweetly, words coming out tinted with the color salmon. 

_ (He can’t remember the last time he’d been able to use such a tone with someone. Perhaps back in...) _

At this pointed remark, Toma’s attention abruptly shifts to the wall behind him, aura dancing with the barest traces of flush pink.

“Ah… yes, Master Allen.”

Allen and Lenalee both shift to look around the Finder, eyes widening at the sight of a giant hole in the wall. Even without looking at him, Allen can feel Toma’s aura practically flooding with flush pink.

“Oh…” Lenalee murmurs to herself before blinking deliberately, perhaps trying to dislodge the image or bring herself back from the shock. Quickly recovering  _ (Allen can’t help but be impressed. After all, it’s not the first time Lenalee has shown such a prowess in her recovery time.) _ , she turns her attention back to Toma. “So that didn’t work either?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Toma murmurs back, yellow-grey overtaking his earlier embarrassment.

“That probably means that whatever’s affecting the town is affecting it as a whole, right?” Allen asks, face a mask of white even as he feels muddled light blue mix into his aura. He already knows the answer to that question; he even knows  _ what _ is affecting the town, but he can’t let them know that. He can’t.

“Mm,” Lenalee hums thoughtfully, staring inquisitively from the hole in the wall to the entrance of the town. “It seems that way.”

That’s when Allen catches a spark of color out of the corner of his eye, and he quickly follows Lenalee’s example, turning his own eyes onto the pure white haze he can see over the entire town.

There it is again. Another spark, another color too quick for him to identify.

Walking closer, Allen brings his hand up to the wall, almost touching it. He can feel the waves of pure white flowing beneath his hand, so full of life and emotion.

“What is it you want?” Allen whispers to it, golden yellow lacing his softly spoken words.

_ (Because every Innocence, every accommodator, has a reason. A reason to fight, a reason to choose, a reason to feel, a reason to never want to let go.) _

The Innocence shines with color before him, lost in the overpowering pure white it’s using to barricade the town. Then, Allen sees it. A flash of maroon, protective and intent and  _ angry _ , catches his eye, and Allen just  _ knows. _

“Who?” he asks softly again. Behind him, he can hear Toma and Lenalee talking to each other and, thankfully, doesn’t feel any golden yellow or traces of blue directed towards him. Allen waits.

It takes a moment, as if the Innocence is accessing him, testing him, before it divulges the information Allen wasn’t even sure it was capable of giving. 

_ (Sometimes, the sheer sentience of the Innocence surprises Allen. Sometimes, the fact that he’s the first one to truly see the extent of it is even more surprising.) _

Allen sees a cloud of dark purple, heavy and depressing, and then more beneath: lilac and apricot and warm yellow. The colors are so delicate and kind and  _ sad _ that Allen could scream.

“I’ll find her,” Allen tells the Innocence, and the lack of red or any other retributive colors tells him he guessed the person’s gender correctly. Well, that made this a little bit easier at least.

Shifting away from the wall, Allen looks back to Lenalee and Toma, who are still discussing ideas of how to enter the town.

“Hey, Toma!” Allen calls, quickly grabbing both the Finder’s and his fellow Exorcist’s attention. “What if Lenalee and I both try to go in? There’s no harm, right?”

Toma’s aura stutters for a moment, tensing sudden before releasing, and a flash of bright yellow appears around him.

“I don’t see any harm,” he answers, eyes shining with dandelion yellow  _ (like the hope before a wish comes true) _ .

Smiling sunshine yellow, Allen turns to Lenalee.

“Are you okay with that?” he asks, just to make sure.

Lenalee looks contemplative for a moment, aura sharpening with her focus, before she looks 

up to him with a smile and nods.

“Okay.”

Beaming brighter, Allen waits for Lenalee to make it to his side before sending a nod in Toma’s direction and catching Lenalee’s eye to make sure she’s ready. Earning himself another nod, Allen takes a deep breath and steps into the pure white barrier.

_ Please. Let me help you. _

\---

There’s a crackle of energy, and for a few fleeting seconds, Allen’s vision goes completely pure white. Then, the moment is over, and Allen finds himself… not where he expected.

“Did we… make it into the town?” Allen hears Lenalee say beside him, aura muddled with her clear bemusement. 

“Looks like it…” Allen trails off uncertainly.

Half of Allen had expected to end up right back where they’d started, rejected from the town as all of the others had been. Maybe it  _ is  _ an exorcist thing… or perhaps the Innocence within the town has accepted his offer of help.

“It might be best to split up,” Lenalee continues, eyes already flitting around the crowd.

Allen can’t help but agree. Splitting up might help them locate the Innocence faster.

Unfortunately, the complete grasp that the Innocence holds over the town is clearly messing with Allen’s Synesthesia. He can barely see the auras around him without a haze of pure white getting in the way, let alone seek out the Innocence itself.

“That’s a good idea,” he agrees, searching the crowd as well. Searching for Timcanpy is even harder than usual, but Allen feels the golem’s familiar magenta within one of his uniform pockets. “I’ll send Tim to find you if I see anything.”

Lenalee nods her understanding, offering her green-light pink smile, before heading to the left. Allen watches her go before dutifully moving rightward.

\---

It’s perhaps an hour into his search when Allen finally decides that no matter where he goes he can’t sense the Innocence any better than he could before. It’s vaguely unsettling after years of practice in finding the oddities in auras and the surrounding colors.

Looking down at Timcanpy, Allen can confirm that individual auras are indeed easier to distinguish when closer to him. At least that hasn’t changed.

On the other hand, Allen can’t help but wonder if making direct contact with the Innocence would help him identify it.

_ (He’d noticed a while back, about a year into his travels with Cross.  _

_ They’d been in India at the time, Allen recalls. _

_ And it’s there that Allen met a boy, his best friend, Narain. _

_ Narain. _

_ Dark blue and dandelion yellow. _

_ He’d wanted to be a doctor. _

_ A matching aura, Mina, amethyst and dandelion. _

_ She’d wanted to be a dancer. _

_ Allen had never been as close to Mina, but the hyacinth that had flooded him upon her death, knowing that he’d had a part in it, knowing that maybe,  _ maybe _ , he could have prevented it, absolutely  _ burned _ like searing white in his heart. _

_ When he’d touched Narain then, a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder, Allen’s sure that he would’ve mistaken the boy’s grief for his own for how strong he’d suddenly felt it. _

_ Black shrouded blue and dandelions squashed underfoot, completely destroyed. _

_ (Brother and sister. One soul gone, the other abandoned.) _

_ He’d felt it when he’d touched Narain’s shoulder again, only, it hadn’t been Narain that time. _

_ (A funeral. One soul misplaced, the other gone.) _

_ It had been an Akuma. And suddenly all he’d been able to feel was black black drowning blue dark purple _ pitch black _. _

_ Hyacinth. _

_ The tears had stung drowning blue in his eyes as he’d watched Mina’s soul join her brother’s.) _

Since his discovery that touching another person or their aura seems to strengthen his connection to them, Allen has begun to avoid contact  _ (again) _ . He can’t avoid it in crowds, but he can try his best to reel in his Synesthesia, despite the futility of the attempt.

_ (He can’t take that much pain again.) _

Regardless, Allen has a job to do. Bracing himself for the onslaught of near-invading colors, Allen begins to deliberately but subtly brush up against other people as he walks, sometimes only barely close enough to get a grasp of their aura.

It isn’t the most efficient method he’s capable of, but it’s the only option he’s got right now.

-

It takes another half hour for Allen to decide that this  _ really  _ isn’t working.

He’s been walking around, brushing people’s shoulders, hands, auras in an attempt at sensing the person that the Innocence had described, but all Allen’s got as a result is a growing migraine and emotional exhaustion.

Nothing substantial to say the least.

Deciding to take a moment to calm his aura, Allen moves to walk into an alley up ahead. Which is, of course, when his eye decides to activate.

The sudden searing white and shift in vision catches him off guard for a moment, but then the reality of why his eye has activated hits him. 

_ (He’s become so used to his Synesthesia aiding him, to being able to catch sight of the danger before it’s too close. But now he can’t.) _

Before him, Allen can see a woman, her aura too far away for him to sense, as she quakes before an Akuma whose back is to him. The Akuma’s soul catches his eye, mouth agape in a drowning blue, dark purple, black scream, and Allen doesn’t hesitate.

_ (Turquoise-white washes over him, and Allen’s mind clears enough of his headache to not injure himself in battle. A grateful smile flashes across his lips.) _

Allen’s claws rip through the Akuma as if it weren’t even there. The soul has already begun to crumble away with a murmured thanks as he lands on the ground before the woman.

Then, as his eye deactivates, Allen pauses.

An overwhelming cloud of dark purple and beneath, lilac, apricot, warm yellow. Allen draws in a sharp breath, traces of blue entering his aura as the realization that he’s  _ found _ her, finally, the possible accommodator. 

He looks up, grass green in his smile, only to come up short at the empty alley before him.

Allen finds himself at the end of the alley, looking around frantically for the woman, before he even realizes he’s moved.

He hears a shriek in the distance, a crowd parted in collectively sharpened auras and a heavy green-yellow, as the words register in his mind.

_ “I’ve escaped from today!” _

Allen’s aura sharpens, and he quickly tugs his glove back over his left hand from where he’d instinctively tucked it into his pocket before activating his Innocence. Then he digs into his right pocket, feeling and ignoring the dingy yellow of Tim’s indignant biting.

“Tim,” Allen says sternly to the golem, gaze intent and aura onyx black. Timcanpy immediately snaps to attention. “I need you to bring Lenalee here. I think I’ve found a lead.”

Tim nods in understanding, and then he’s flitting away, magenta aura quickly leaving Allen’s current, pitiful range.

Allen turns away, eyes tracking the movements of the crowd, before heaving a great, exhausted sigh. The woman is nowhere in sight.

“I guess it’s time to catch an Innocence accommodator,” Allen murmurs to himself, leaning back against the wall to give himself another minute of rest before Lenalee arrives. He has a feeling he’s going to need it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry for the wait again! This last week was the end of the quarter for school, and I had a lot of work that I may or may not have procrastinated.
> 
> Anyways, here are the colors, and I'll talk a bit more at the bottom!  
> Pure white - Innocence, purity  
> Bright orange - mischief  
> Salmon - teasing in a fun way  
> Flush pink - embarrassment, shame  
> Yellow-grey - polite  
> White - innocent  
> Muddled light blue - untruthful  
> Golden yellow - curiosity  
> Maroon - anger branching from protectiveness  
> Too little/traces of blue - suspicion, disbelief  
> Dark purple - gloom, sadness, frustration  
> Lilac - feminine and delicate  
> Apricot - a color of yellow, orange, and pink, humiliation (think of the taste of an apricot bein both ‘tart and sweet’, humility can be a good thing to lessen pride or a bad thing through bullying and shunning)  
> Warm yellow - kindness  
> Red - anger, irritation  
> Flash of bright yellow - enlightenment, a sudden realization  
> Dandelion - hope  
> Sunshine yellow - happiness  
> Magenta - spiritual  
> Green - soothing  
> Light pink - tender love  
> Dark blue - intelligence  
> Amethyst - creative, imaginative  
> Hyacinth - regret  
> Black shrouded blue - grief  
> Black - death, evil, authority  
> Drowning blue - overwhelming sadness  
> Pitch black - evil, death  
> Searing white - physical sensation, blindingly painful  
> Turquoise-white - default of Allen's Innocence, partnership, love, comradery, purity  
> Grass green - relief   
> Green-yellow - emotional disgust  
> Dingy yellow - physical pain  
> Onyx black - authoritative
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.  
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.  
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.  
> When colors are faded, that can represent how they are from a long time ago but were so strong or were around for such a long time that they haven't completely vanished from the soul yet.  
> More mild colors aren't as intense or felt as strongly. This can be used to mean that usually very powerful colors are still felt but not as forcefully.  
> More pigmented colors represent more powerfully felt emotions.
> 
> I swear, these lists are getting so long lol. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! We're finally into the Rewinding Town arc! Also, welcome back to me bringing in the forgotten side characters again. This chapter: Narlain and Mina. (I'll be honest, I may have forgotten both of their names... but no more, they shall be remembered!)
> 
> But yeah, I had a lot of new colors this chapter; I'm especially proud of Dandelion. If you guys have any suggestions for color names, I'd love to hear them btw. There's only so many euphonious color names out there that aren't named after a food lol.
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading! The 3rd quarter's over (thank god), but I will be busy next Sunday (irl best girl's bday party, love her so much), so we'll have to wait and see if I post anything that Sunday or the next. See you guys next time! Bye! <333


	14. Chapter 14

“What is this?” 

Allen hears the question though he doesn’t quite process it for a moment. 

Being inside the small restaurant they’d found has helped his head clear somewhat, but the continued impairment of his senses further irritates him, sending a wave of red through his system before he can reel the color in. The Innocence’s prowess really is incredible; the haze of pure white hangs in the air like fog, obscuring both his Synesthesia and his concentration.

“Allen!”

Speaking of concentration…

“Sorry, Lenalee!” Allen exclaims quickly, trying his best to remember what Lenalee had said before. “Um, that’s a drawing of the woman I told you about…”

“A drawing…?” Lenalee murmurs as she looks back to the piece of paper in her hands, brows furrowed. Seeing the obvious miscomprehension on his fellow exorcist’s face, Allen ignores the pang of rich blue he feels at completely missing the dull grey of her aura even at this distance. Subtly, he allows their feet to touch underneath the table, hoping at least some form of contact will help with sensing her colors.

_ (He dutifully ignores the sharpening of his own aura at the unwanted contact. Despite his unwillingness to be touched by others, he can’t allow his muddled senses to conflict with his ability to read others, especially his comrades. He may be adequate at reading facial expressions, but that ability was severely lacking when his Synesthesia was usually more efficient. He should probably work on that…) _

Allen lowers his head sheepishly, feeling flush pink rise in his cheeks as he sucks sulkily on his spoon.

“I’m not the best at drawing people…” Allen admits and feels his face go completely red at the disbelieving look Lenalee sends him.

_ (He isn’t very good at drawing in general, actually. He’d always found abstract art more his style; something about mixing different colors and shades came naturally to him...) _

“Mm,” Lenalee decides to hum neutrally, a hint of yellow-grey to hide her obvious agreement before she’s back to business. “So you’re sure the Akuma was after this woman?”

Taking the spoon out of his mouth, Allen nods in confirmation.

“I’m sure there was something special about that woman,” Allen says thoughtfully, setting down his spoon so he can look Lenalee in the eyes. “She shouted something about ‘escaping today’. It sounds a lot like what Komui was talking about with the town’s rewinding, doesn’t it?”

Not to mention her aura…

Lenalee nods in agreement, absentmindedly allowing Timcanpy to land on her hand from his previous perch on Allen’s head. 

Pulling up a facade of black tinted turquoise, Allen directs the look to Timcanpy, earning a sharp-toothed grin that’s distinctly bright orange even if he’s never able to sense anything but magenta from the golem without touching him.

The tension in the air eases somewhat, lessening the sharpness of Lenalee’s aura that Allen hadn’t noticed until now. A flicker of hyacinth leaves him grimacing before the comforting feeling of Lenalee’s yellow-orange and amaranth banish the color from his aura. 

“Speaking of Komui,” Allen continues thoughtfully, mind flashing back to the last time they’d seen the supervisor. The man’s fluctuating sharp and muddled aura had been only one of the many symptoms that had alerted Allen to the man’s worsening state. “He seemed pretty stressed when he sent us off.”

“Yeah,” Lenalee murmurs, rich blue overtaking her aura. “Brother’s had a lot to worry about, and it’s left him overworked.”

Allen, recalling Komui’s distinct light pink and rich blue when sending Lenalee off, says, “He’s worried about you.”

The smack of Lenalee’s newspaper on his head sends a wave of apricot through him rather than any actual pain.

“Not me!” Lenalee reprimands, even as her lips curl slightly with amaranth. “It’s the Millenium Earl, Allen!”

Her tone sours significantly at the name of their enemy.

“Brother can’t seem to figure out the Earl’s plans. He said it feels like the calm before the storm. Whatever the Earl is planning can’t be good.”

Allen forces steel into his eyes even as memories of drowning blue, dark purple, pitch black, hyacinth weigh down on his shoulders.

“The Earl…” he begins before a sudden flash of dark purple in front of him catches his attention. 

Dimly, Allem processes Lenalee’s “Allen, you dropped your fork.” as he stares into a pair of dark, haunting eyes flashing with dark purple, lilac, apricot and warm yellow.

“It’s you!” Allen finds himself yelling as the woman stands to flee, her aura sharp and black tinted yellow with her panic. “Lenalee, this is the woman!” 

And then he finds himself hanging half outside a window, the black cloth of the woman’s skirt clutched in his hand like a lifeline. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the woman wails even as she tugs futilely on her skirt. “I just wanted to know who you are!”

Allen doesn’t relent, instead feeling wine red consume him as he yells back, “Then why did you jump out of the window!?”

“It… It was just a reflex,” the woman mumbles back, pausing in her struggle.

Thankfully, that’s when Lenalee appears behind him, aura comfortingly olive green and sky blue  _ (the calm before the storm) _ .

“How about we all come inside and talk?” Lenalee smiles, exuding every drop of green he can see in her aura.

-

Once they’re back inside and properly situated, it doesn’t take Allen long to recognize the sudden appearance of the four men at the counter. It aches deep within his chest that it’s his left eye’s twitch of faded red that notifies him to the Akuma’s presence.

Turning to Lenalee, Allen keeps the left side of his face from the woman’s sight, not wanting to alarm her as she tries to compose herself in the booth opposite the exorcists.

Lenalee turns to him as well, and her aura spikes at his activated curse before steel enters her eyes.

“Where?” she whispers, thankfully familiar with his abilities.

“The four men at the counter,” Allen answers just as softly, deactivating his eye  _ (and ignoring the munsell yellow that followed) _ . “Be ready to move when I say to.”

Receiving a slight nod, Allen turns his attention back to the woman before him, whose aura seems to have reached a less panicked state _ (if only because he can now barely sense its sharpness anymore) _ .

“My… my name is Miranda Lotto,” the woman, Miranda, introduces herself stiltedly. “I’m very happy that there’s someone else who’s noticed what’s happening in this town. I tried to tell others what has been happening, but I was made a fool of instead. At least those children can’t pull their pranks on me anymore…”

The near hysteria in Miranda’s voice sends a wave of rich blue through Allen’s aura, but he’d learned the many signs found in a maniac’s aura, and she hadn’t shown any… at least not to a degree that required real concern.

_ (He’d seen many a lunatic even before he’d met Cross, and one of the first lessons he’d had to teach himself on the streets was how to avoid certain people.  _

_ Nutters, for example. _

_ Their auras were almost always neurotic, flashing from color to color and spiking with tension, almost always with a haze of one rudimentary emotion.  _

_ Cosimov’s had been dark green; he’d always wanted what everyone else had. Though he’d been less insane than most of the other madmen Allen  _ (Red) _ has had the displeasure of meeting.) _

_ (Of course, there was always those who hadn’t shown such signs.) _

_ (Mana hadn’t.) _

“Ms. Miranda,” Lenalee addresses the distraught woman, solacingly pastel green beside him. “Do you remember anything about when this anomaly started?”

“Yes..” Miranda murmurs, eyes wide as Allen has come to expect from the woman. “This is the 30th time that I’ve experienced October 9th. Everyone in town seems to forget… except for me.”

Then, without any forewarning whatsoever, Miranda lunges forward, latching onto Allen’s hands desperately.

“Please help me!” she wails, aura sharp enough for panicked tears to leave her eyes. “If this doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to go crazy! Please!”

Allen stares at Miranda in momentary shock, aura as blank as the look in his eyes. Shit, the Akuma must’ve taken notice of them now if they hadn’t already.  _ (Although he’s nearly positive they had.) _

“Ms. Miranda, please calm down!” Allen vaguely notes Lenalee’s attempts to placate their new companion, but his full attention has focused onto the four Akuma sitting at the bar.

“How am I supposed to be calm when-”

“Lenalee,” Allen interrupts, voice onyx black and steel but still quiet enough for the Akuma to remain at least somewhat unaware. He leans towards the two as if to offer a softly spoken reassurance. “We’re going to walk out of this restaurant and into the alley you found me in. As soon as we get inside, please take Miranda to her home. I think she’s the most likely person to have come into contact with the Innocence. I’ll fight the Akuma and find you later with Timcanpy.”

Lenalee hesitates for a moment, eyes dull grey with her indecision, before she mumbles a soft “Okay.” in assent.

Shuffling out of their booth, Allen waves jovially to the owner, smiling yellow-grey as they exit the shop. They make their way through the crowd to the alley as quickly as they can without running, and then Lenalee is off with Miranda in her arms, the woman shrieking in both surprise and terror. 

Allen turns his attention to the alley opening, Innocence activated in its gun form.

He doesn’t sense the Akuma behind him until it’s too late to block.

Colliding with the wall, Allen quickly brings up his left arm to deflect the incoming attack, converting his Innocence back into its claw-like state. Glancing around him, Allen notes each soul hovering above the Akuma, each writhing and chained the same as the clown Akuma from Mater.

“Level 2’s, huh?” Allen utters to himself, wiping the blood dripping from his mouth. A dark orange grin stretches across his face. “This should be fun.”

“Are you underestimating us!?” one of the Akuma screeches, it’s three tongues whipping maliciously from its crooked-toothed mouth as it charges.

“It’s called manipulation,” Allen smiles again, allowing gold and overwhelming orange to flash across his aura as he impaled the distracted Akuma from behind. 

_ (“Don’t let your guard down just because you’ve won once, Idiot Apprentice!” he can hear Master’s voice in his head, scarlet-orange-gold aura flaring wine red.) _

_ (Allen had learned that lesson long before Cross had taught it to him.) _

_ (He always seemed to forget it anyway.) _

“Voice of Pain!” another Akuma howls, and suddenly, all Allen is aware of is blinding white, the color pulsing like his head were trying to explode. With the pain overpowering his senses  _ (his head is filled with an unbearable cacophony, and his vision blurs with drowning blue dark purple pitch black ebony) _ , Allen barely manages to dodge another Akuma’s attacks, tumbling out of the way of the cutting blasts of wind.

Even so, a searing pain strikes his leg, lighting his senses up with first pale blue then incarnadine  _ (like the color of a healing burn) _ and causing him to nearly double over with the hit after flipping out of the way of the final Akuma.

“Ice Fire,” the Akuma says, black tinged red-orange tainting its words. “It’s hotter than fire. Even if it only touches you a little bit, it will corrode your flesh!”

The long haired Akuma laughs as its fellow Akuma chant their own ideas on how to destroy Allen.

“Let’s tear him to pieces! To pieces!”

“No, I’m going to use my voice to scramble his brain! It’s so much fun!”

“We’re going to tear!”

“No, corrode him!”

“No, let’s turn his brain to mush!”

Allen vaguely takes note of the Akuma’s arguing, clutching his ringing ears before bracing himself and aiming at the distracted Akuma.

He misses.

Fuck.

“Why would you attack us while we’re deciding how to kill you?” one of the Akuma shrieks in apparent disbelief. Allen catches a few traces of blue in the Akuma’s voice, its three skulls frantic. 

“As if I’d let you get away with such an obvious opening,” Allen huffs even as he sways to his feet, aura muddled as the ringing in his ears persists.

“We’ll kill you, exorcist!” the Akuma shriek making to lunge before halting in their tracks, faces frozen.

Allen pauses, dull grey entering his aura as the Akuma continue to float before him, unmoving. A flash of pitch black catches his attention, and for a moment, Allen’s sure the Akuma are going to attack. Then, just as he’s about to shoot, a large blast sends him rocking back unsteadily, arm raised to guard his face.

When he looks up, the Akuma are gone, and Allen warily deactivates his Innocence, dull grey continuing to hang around him.

“What was that..?” Allen wonders to himself.

He doesn’t know whether he’s talking about the Akuma’s sudden retreat or the dark flash of pitch black he’s almost positive didn’t come from the Akuma.

Maybe he was just seeing things. 

But then again…

_ (A flash of indigo and pure white-turquoise. His instincts had never let him down before.) _

Best to be prepared.

“Tim,” Allen looks up to the faint magenta presence beside him. Thankfully, his ears had stopped ringing. “Let’s go find Lenalee, okay?”

Tim nods, moving closer to nuzzle against Allen’s mussed hair  _ (a spark of rich blue through the haze of magenta) _ before flying in the direction Lenalee had taken Miranda.

Smiling softly to himself, Allen looks back to the destroyed remains of the Akuma he had destroyed, muttering a soft prayer for a safe passage, and holds his left arm close  _ (pure white-turquoise-warm yellow) _ as he follows Timcanpy out of the smoking alleyway.

_ (And yet, even as he smiles, the flash of pitch black he’d seen haunts him, a horrible raven black building in his core. Something dark has entered the Rewinding Town, and Allen’s not sure if they’re ready for it.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back again! It's been a while, and I apologize both for being late and for the kinda meh chapter. I tried to make it a decent length, but I think I kinda failed. I'm sorry! I did introduce some new colors though, so I hope you guys liked those! Finally getting into more shades of green and black, I've been waiting for this.
> 
> Here are the colors:  
> Red - irritation, anger  
> Pure white - Innocence  
> Rich blue - worry, concern  
> Dull grey - lack of understanding, uncertain  
> Flush pink - embarrassment, shame  
> Yellow-grey - politeness  
> Black tinted turquoise - betrayal  
> Bright orange - mischief  
> Magenta - spiritual  
> Hyacinth - guilt, regret  
> Yellow-orange - amusement  
> Amaranth - fondness, only somewhat exasperated  
> Light pink - tender love  
> Apricot - humiliation  
> Steel - determination, stubbornness, silver is believed to draw negative energy out of the body and replace it with positive energy.  
> Drowning blue - overwhelming sadness  
> Dark purple - gloom, sadness  
> Pitch black - evil  
> Lilac - feminine, delicate  
> Warm yellow - warmth, kindness  
> Black tinted yellow - fear  
> Wine red - annoyed exasperation  
> Olive green - peace  
> Sky blue - calm  
> Green - balances out red, soothing  
> Faded red - physical sensation, sore pain  
> Munsell yellow - physical sensation, revolting and intense pain (more moderate)  
> Dark green - greed  
> Pastel green - soothing, gentle  
> Onyx black - authoritative  
> Dark orange - deceit, manipulative  
> Gold and overwhelming orange - satisfaction  
> Scarlet-orange - passion, desire, domination, anger  
> Gold - extravagance, courage, passion  
> Blinding white - physical sensation, blinding pain (more intense than munsell yellow)  
> Ebony - death  
> Pale blue - physical sensation, too cold  
> Incarnadine - physical sensation, a burn  
> Black tinged red-orange - dark desires, bloodlust  
> Traces of blue/ too little blue - disbelief   
> Indigo - instinct  
> Pure white-turquoise - a default for Allen's Innocence, Innocence, partnership, love  
> Raven black - a sense of foreboding, ravens (the bird) are meant to be a symbol of foreboding and bad luck
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.  
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.  
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.  
> When colors are faded, that can represent how they are from a long time ago but were so strong or were around for such a long time that they haven't completely vanished from the soul yet.  
> More mild colors aren't as intense or felt as strongly. This can be used to mean that usually very powerful colors are still felt but not as forcefully.  
> More pigmented colors represent more powerfully felt emotions.
> 
> Anyways, guys, I don't have much else to say for this one! Happy Easter and all that! U╹ x ╹U (this is a bunny)
> 
> For anyone else who's on their last stretch of spring break like me, live on, treat yo self (imma getting some bubble tea tomorrow with my sister ^_-), and try not to die when the week starts back up. If you try, I'll try lol
> 
> Alright, see you guys next time! Thank you so much for reading! Bye!


	15. Chapter 15

Even with his limited sight, and even more limited contact with her, Allen can tell Miranda's life has been… well, to put it simply, kind of shit.

_ (He sees nothing truly fracturing. The truth is scrawled, drawn, painted across her soul like she’s some work of art created for others’ entertainment.  _

_ Traces of orange, never accepted by her peers. _

_ Apricot, trying so hard to fit in anyway and being met with a bitter-sweet acknowledgement. _

_ Warm yellow, only found through her own forgiveness and lack of cruelty. Unreciprocated. _

_ Dark purple, a cloud of gloom resting upon her shoulders. _

_ There’s no ebony, no drowning blue. It's somewhat comforting to know her life could've been worse.) _

_ (Except that it's not.) _

It hurts how everyone holds colors  _ (whether on the surface or in their core) _ that pain them enough to make his eyes sting, adding to the all encompassing ocean inside of him, drowning him in all of the colors he’ll never be able to escape.

Anyone who loves ends up hurt.

Everyone  _ he _ loves ends up hurt.

_ (Allen, Mana, Narlain.) _

It’s lonely.

_ (Surrounded on all sides. _

_ Circus goers, looking for a fun day out with the family. _

_ Nobles in their carriages, barely sparing a glance for the big top's many 'marvels’. _

_ Freaks like him but not. _

_ Surrounded on all sides. _

_ Cornered, guard raised. _

_ Never forget to look behind you. _

_ Always make sure it's done without them noticing. _

_ Surrounded on all sides. _

_ Knowing there's always someone lurking in the shadows. _

_ Never alone, but still feeling so damn  _ lonely _.) _

Allen hopes the Order won’t end up being another thing for him to destroy.

_ (The Destroyer of Time. Maybe Hevlaska had meant the Earl. Maybe she just meant that the longer he spends with someone, the more destruction he’ll bring their way.) _

_ (A destroyer who saves.) _

A flash of dandelion yellow: a wish blowing in the wind, waiting to come true.

_ (He can only hope. There’s not much else to do but move forward or stop moving at all. Mana had wanted him to move forward, to keep walking.) _

A promise.

_ (Maybe he’ll be able to outrun his world as it crumbles around him.) _

-

His leg flares with mint, a strange physical sensation of stinging accompanying the vague color.

He resists the urge to hiss at the pain.

“Don’t be a baby,” Lenalee chides, her voice an odd mix of pastel green, amaranth and rich blue. _ (Like an older sister scolding her younger brother.) _ The picture the colors create has both flush pink and sunshine yellow speckling his aura; at least until the mint green clouds his vision again, tempering the pale blue-incarnadine shooting up his leg.

“I wasn’t,” he complains sulkily, feeling a little sore at the distinct bubblegum pink in his voice.

Lenalee sends him a distinctly unconvinced look, and Allen can feel the way her amaranth starts to tip towards wine red through the hand supporting his leg as she cleans his wounds.

The air around them feels light, free of the previous tension from earlier.

It really sucks that he’s going to have to break it.

“Lenalee,” Allen begins, and his voice comes out onyx black, all amiability abandoned. “About the battle…”

He looks up at her, seeing the exact moment his tone registers in her mind. Her aura quickly turns onyx black as well, and he knows he has her full attention.

“The Akuma...” he starts, trying to figure out how to phrase his words without revealing his Synesthesia. “Well, first, I wasn’t able to destroy them all, so we’ll have to keep an eye out for them still. But the thing is… they had me cornered, were about to kill me, actually, but then they stopped. They froze like they were… receiving a message or something. I think someone told them to retreat.”

“They retreated…?” Lenalee mumbles, more to herself than as an actual question. “And you said you think someone ordered them to? Do you think it could be the Earl?”

No. Allen knows it wasn’t the Millenium Earl  _ (his aura is so, so much darker) _ , but he  _ does  _ know that it was someone with a similar power over the Akuma. Someone they never knew existed. And that’s just as terrifying, if not more so, than the Akuma’s Maker appearing in this small German town.

“I don’t know,” he answers instead of saying any of that. “But what I do know is that if he is here then this mission just got a lot more complicated.”

Lenalee nods her agreement, and the two of them sit there in a heavy, stilted silence for a minute before she goes back to cleaning his wounds.

And that’s when, of course, Timcanpy decides to go and poke his wound.

“Tim!” Allen practically screeches, feeling pale blue-incarnadine jolt up his leg again, this time much more intensely. “Ow! Don’t touch it, you’ll make it worse!”

A giggle in front of him brings him up short, and a wave of Lenalee’s yellow-orange hits him, washing away his anxiety and breaking the tension between them.

_ (He doesn’t realize until later that Tim had probably done that intentionally.) _

The silence afterward is only filled with his somewhat better natured grumbling and the sound of Miranda cleaning her grandfather clock which now that he really looks at it…

Holy  _ shit _ .

“So your gun type Innocence,” Allen notes Lenalee trying to restart their more casual conversation, but he can’t bring himself to take his eyes off of the clock. “It puts a lot of strain on your body, right? Please try not to strain yourself too much, Allen.”

“Mm,” Allen responds, forcing his eyes back on Lenalee before she can notice his rather rude inattention. “Well, my body’s gotten stronger since joining the Order! I think my abilities with my gun-type are improving! Though my aim still needs some work…”

Lenalee laughs and agrees, somewhat placatingly, “Yeah, I think you’ve definitely grown since coming to the Order, Allen.”

Allen’s chest practically bursts with sunshine at the comment.

“Really!?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Lenalee agrees, smile yellow-orange. “You’ve definitely put on some muscle even if your height hasn’t really changed.”

Allen blanches, the sunshine in his aura abruptly replaced with black shrouded blue.

His height had always been somewhat of a sore spot. It didn’t help that he was barely taller than Lenalee normally. Adding insult to injury, she always wore her heels when he was around her, so even if he was even the slightest bit taller, it never seemed that way.

_ (There was a small boy, an orphan, who grew up on the streets, never knowing a proper meal.  _

_ Harlequin green. _

_ The boy was always hungry. _

_ One day, he learned, and yet, it was still not enough because his Innocence stole away not only his life force but the energy he was meant to gain through eating food.  _

_ Harlequin green. _

_ He was always hungry. _

_ One day, he’d wonder why he had always seemed small and weak and short for his age, and he’d know. He’d know, and he wouldn’t regret. _

_ (Harlequin, a character in a pantomime, mute. It was ironic that this was the color for his hunger when all hunger did was claw and growl and scream and rip his stomach to shreds, and nothing about starvation was a joke because hunger was protruding ribs and stunted growth, and the color he saw for it was like a clown laughing silently at him for eternity because his hunger never went away, was never sated, would eat away at him until the day he died.) _

_ He’s always hungry.) _

_ (He’ll never regret sharing his energy with his very first friend.) _

_ (He still wishes he were just a little taller though.) _

“Not even a little taller?” Allen sulks, bubblegum rising up again _ (alongside the harlequin in his stomach) _ .

Lenalee sends him an apologetic  _ (but amused, goddamnit)  _ smile as she finishes wrapping his leg, and her gaze flickers over to her left. Allen barely senses the rich blue in her aura now that they aren’t touching anymore, but he already knows why she’s worried.

And now that he thinks about it…

Allen stands, quickly crossing the room and crouching next to Miranda who continues to lean heavily against her clock.

“I’m so powerless. I can’t do anything to stop this from happening. Why can’t you two do something, you’re the ones with powers…?” Allen catches the tailend of her rapid mumbling, and the realization of what he can do strikes him.

“Miranda,” Allen smiles softly to the woman he knows deserves so much more than she’s gotten. He knows what he can do for her. “We’ll help the town in any way we can, but I believe that you’ll be able to do even more.”

“M-Me?” Miranda whispers back as if afraid to break whatever illusion is before her.

“Allen,” Lenalee pipes up behind him. Golden yellow shines bright around her, cutting through the even thicker haze of pure white he’s felt since entering Miranda’s home. It’s eerie how he can barely sense Lenalee’s aura even though she’s only a few feet away from him. He can barely sense Miranda’s for that matter, and they’re meer inches apart. “What are you talking about?”

Allen looks between his approaching comrade and the woman before him and smiles a dark blue smile. It’s an odd mix, he knows, and the smile itself is barely a quirk of his lips.

_ (Fake smiles, real smiles, all smiles have become an instinct at this point. He knows they can be anything he wants them to be.) _

Regardless, he needs them to know he’s right about this.

“Lenalee, Ms. Miranda,” Allen addresses them both. He takes a deep breath, knowing that this will take some explaining. “I have reason to believe that Ms. Miranda’s clock is the Innocence affecting this town and that Ms. Miranda is its accommodator.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! It's ya boi. I'm back with another way too short chapter! Sorry about that ^_^" I meant to work on this yesterday, but here's the thing. *deep breath* This is a horrible excuse, but I've been catching up on Supernatural (no spoilers, I swear) and they frickin asdf;lkl.. Yeah, I literally started weeping and emotionally exhausted myself before I could write this. Again, I'm sorry this is so short, plz don't hate me.  
> Anyways, here are the colors, I'll talk more at the bottom about the actual chapter lol:  
> Traces of orange - loneliness  
> Apricot - humiliation  
> Warm yellow - kindness  
> Dark purple - sadness, gloom  
> Ebony - death  
> Drowning blue - overwhelming sadness  
> Dandelion yellow - hope  
> Mint - physical sensation, soothing of slight pain  
> Pastel green - soothing, gentle  
> Amaranth - fond exasperation, more fond  
> Rich blue - concern   
> Flush pink - embarrassment, shame  
> Sunshine yellow - happiness  
> Pale blue - physical sensation, too cold  
> Incarnadine - physical sensation, a burn  
> Bubblegum pink - childish  
> Wine red - fond exasperation, more exasperated  
> Onyx black - authoritative, serious  
> Yellow-orange - amusement  
> Black shrouded blue - grief, depression  
> Harlequin green - physical sensation, hunger  
> Golden yellow - curiosity  
> Pure white - Innocence  
> Dark blue - intelligent
> 
> When an aura sharpens or tenses, that's meant to represent the person's surprise, increase in focus or other strong emotions such as panic, etc.  
> A muddled aura can signify someone's disorientation or discombobulation.  
> A muted aura can signify sleep or unconsciousness as well as something like resignation or a mental numbness between someone and how they're feeling.  
> When colors are faded, that can represent how they are from a long time ago but were so strong or were around for such a long time that they haven't completely vanished from the soul yet.  
> More mild colors aren't as intense or felt as strongly. This can be used to mean that usually very powerful colors are still felt but not as forcefully.  
> More pigmented colors represent more powerfully felt emotions.
> 
> So yeah, that's it. I added some more colors this chapter, so I hope you liked those. I was in conflict about onyx black, but I decided that making it somewhat multi-purposeful would work in my favor. (Serious and/or authoritative)  
> Also, harlequin, I didn't even see this color coming, honestly. It was the metaphorical brick to the face here. I was doing a little research as I WAS EDITING, like seriously, how last minute can I get, and was like frick, that color fits. And then that part of the fic turned to angst. My bad. I go too deep without meaning too agh sorry for the feels, guys.  
> (lol at dinner, my sister was like how angsty was this chapter? And I was like, meh, not as bad as the last chapter, and then I reread that part and was like oof nvm)  
> Anyways, that's chapter 15! Next chapter will almost definitely have Road in it, so look forward to that! I'll try to update next Sunday, but I can't guarantee 'cause I've got a lot that'll be going on. See you guys later, and thanks for reading!! <3


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